I hold on to my past too much.
I have a big box of memories.
And inside there's so many things.
Lots of train tickets and for each I remember what for, which day and who with.
I have things from boys.
A watch from a boy I went out with for a week.
A thing that holds a bandage together from my ex, it has his signature on it.
I have a rubber bracelet thing from a guy I was seeing, the first guy I ever wanted to kiss but didn't. People hated me for liking him and for him liking me.
I have a gig ticket from when I went to Wollongong to see a gig with the boy I liked, we went out a few times but not enough to call him an ex.
I have letters and cards.
Little things that mean things, pictures.
Sad memories and good memories.
Sometimes I just want to let go...
But why does everything seem like a good time that you'd kill to relive? Even the bad memories?
Why doesn't the present feel like this?
I'm stuck here... making no memories...
I miss everyone.
I miss Sydney.
I miss me.