We don’t talk anymore and you don’t seem to care.
Forever wondering if I am contributing to a conversation by using my own experiences or being self centered and rude.
Other memories stick, no matter how much you wish they wouldn’t. They’re like a song you hate but can’t ever get completely out of your head, and this song becomes the background noise of your entire life, snippets of lyrics and lines of music floating up and then receding, a crazy kind of tide that never stops.
Just be fucking honest about how you feel about people while you’re alive.