Four months later.
I am finally bereft.
And just a bit out there.
Still not for the ending,
but for the missed opportunity.
Now I'm at (or much closer) to the spot
you wanted me at,
I'm on my own.
Fuck, dude.
I guess everything splays a certain way for a reason.
And I guess I had to make it here for myself.
Cheers to opportune opportunity
Cent'anni to hitting this at my own.
And bullshit to the past.
It served neither of us well.
I'm just pissed at the memories that can bubble up from time to time.
Good to great, bad to insufferable.
