I keep coming back to you don't I? I keep coming back to the same texts, hoping that reading what I thought once, in the past, will remind me of why I wanted, and needed, to move on.
I wonder how is it possible to let go of something if the memory lingers to some actions that are now a part of me. Like this tea that I'm drinking. It is 'stained' by the milk I poured in it, like I used to, not a year ago, but after. You see, the memories are a part of who I am, not a part of who I was. And until I learn to live with the memories and not feel the longing that they bring I will not be able to open myself to new ones. I live attached to them. It's like a sire bond I guess. I feel the need to be linked to someone. When will I sire bond myself and not another person?
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