June-minded

And I think you were right to say that I hold on to the past more than I should. I guess I didn’t see it that way.

I was told you try and try until there’s nothing left. But if there’s nothing left to fight for, then I’ll just rest my fists.

I can’t remember if it was cold on the pier, when I held my tongue. I felt alone and unsure, so I guess maybe I was. I felt ignored, I felt left behind. Some would say those feelings are rightly deserved. I put my heart on the line again and watch it skid across the Sound.

It doesn’t matter what either of us wanted anymore — when what you wish for is that I just move on. So here I am in our old town trying my best to get along.

The past is another stone left on the road.