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Sep 2012
I caught myself holding my breath.
Approaching the powerful intersection.
Enough power to take lives.
Lucky enough to have held onto mine.
The scene replays itself automatically in my memory.
Silver van pulls out infront of me and boom!
Swerve, ditch, smoke.
Gah, adrenaline pumping!
My car took its own life to save mine.
And boy do I miss her...
I blink and I'm on the other side.
I let my breath go and get hit in the face with another ******* memory.
It's funny how memories work.
They can be so deep down and forgotten.
And something like an innocent drive to free you mind can dredge up all the crap that's been buried. 
Every time I pass the house where I was first introduced to ****.
I think of Lyndsae.
Her stupid yellow mailbox.
I have the hidden urge to beat that **** down with a baseball bat.
I look for that ugly car she drives.
Knowing it won't be there in the drive way.
I still catch myself looking.
When I see that car out on the road,
That burnt orange little **** with tires,
I glance at the driver.
Never her.
But still...
No matter how far down the memories are,
It still comes back to me.
I wish I could twist a cork ***** into my ear and yank my brain out.
Take it apart and put it back together again like a puzzle.
Only, leaving out all the pieces I don't want to remember.
I don't wanna think about Carlee every time I pass Eatn Park.
I don't wanna think about Drew when I pass the road I used to turn on to get to her old house. 
I don't wanna think about Coonz ******* that guy when I drive to New Eagle.
And when there's no land marks to refresh my mind ****** memory,
The music does a fine job of working tears out of my eyes.
Taylor Swift and her "I'm dying to know if it's killing you like its killing me" 
Or blink 182 saying "I'm just a ******* child, don't let it go to your head."
And as soon as Celebrity Status starts playing, BriZ is there sitting beside me. We're off to pittsburgh's light up night.
With the next song, she vanishes "and sometime I say things that I wish that I could take back. The most crucial thing I lack is a thing called tact. And if you're always so intently listening. Then that smartest thing to say is to tell myself not to say a thing"
Oh!!! And the real heart wrenching song of all that makes me ball like a little ******* baby "oh dear. It's been hardly a moment and you are already missed. There is still a bit of your skin that I've yet to have kissed..... We'll be holding hands once again. All our broken plans will mend. I will hold you tight so you kno."
And oh I want you to kno so bad.
My memories won't go away. 
They are apart of me.
Believe me, I wish I could sort them out and throw all the bad ones away.
But I can't.
So you can say I'm not over something when I am.
Cause when the subject is brought up, it's impossible not to think about it.
Just because it's a memory that makes me mad, sad, upset, angry, or violent, doesn't mean that I'm not over it. 
I'm over all the stuff in the past besides the absolute last thing that happened to me. 
She felt like my one and only.
I called her the love of my life.
Better than all the rest by far!
So much trust and happiness.
But love don't last forever. 
I think about her all the time.
In bed.
In the shower.
When I swim.
When I hear music.
When I'm just ******* sitting here watching tv.
I fantasize way too hard.
And it only hurts.
It hurts to remember. 
I tell myself that I will do anything to get that back. 
But with what was said, she's turned off and out.
Faults mine, hands down. 
Round of applause for the old jack *** the refound the surface. 
I knew I couldn't be good enough for her.
Why do I set myself up for failure?! 
Maybe I should stop trying so hard. 
Psh.
I beat myself up worse than anyone else could.
I'm my own bully.
I'm the only enemy I have.
All the others are just decoys.
Mishandling situations
That's all on me.
And I can't do anything to change it now.
Regret? Yea.
Some.
A lot.
But it's over.
All over....
L Smida
Written by
L Smida
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   L Smida
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