The days I remember you are fewer, as I blind myself to much of what I was, as I say in endless narcissism
but, of my mind, you own all cat-eyed glasses, and as lots of 4 show up on shopgoodwill, I always check to see if they have any nice leopard print ones I could link you to in email
gmail is terrifying, it's preserved endless chains of conversation once thought lost to the wind,
I do not get immersed, but only glance at a few moments, and it reminds me of what my memory has bleached
...
these days, when I think of you, I still think of how I might better myself, and once again realize I'm still doing it wrong
One day, when I finally look out instead of in, I'd like to talk -to- you, and not just to myself, through you.
To care in retrospect is hell, but if I might say one last thing, between then, and later
I could not care for you as I wanted, but I always wanted to care
I hope somewhere deep within that as always, convoluted and self-assured message is that, I did.
...