Sometimes you don’t miss the other person; sometimes you miss who you were when you were with them.
— N.A. Whitley
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
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@magpie240
Sometimes you don’t miss the other person; sometimes you miss who you were when you were with them.
— N.A. Whitley
i don’t like how endings in real life come on so suddenly without making sense, without much warning. one minute you’re in the middle of something and the next it’s all a very long time ago and you’re a different person and none of it is ever coming back
I’m done. Is that ok?
I don’t know why I started this. Maybe it was just some way to make myself feel less alone. As if ink and paper could fill up my rough edges and make me whole again.
But words are just words. And I am still broken.
I can’t tell if this makes me feel worse or better, but it makes me feel. I guess that’ll have to be enough. Enough to get me through to whatever ‘next’ is.
Before I wrote for her and for the past. Now I write for myself and the present. I am still a magpie, but this time I am free.
Sometimes we need the silence to remember why we started playing music in the first place.
—N.A Whitley