I know I wreak of sin. I hoped that you wouldn't notice. But if we're both being honest, so do you. It's just a part of my everlasting restlessness. It's just a part of me. Just waiting for my memory to fade. Just waiting while my future's escaping. I didn't plan for this. But I guess that the weather isn't the only thing that's changing. I hope this doesn't (but I know it will) change everything. I hope that this isn't the last time that we speak.
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