Translation.

Sometimes it comes back. In flashbacks.
Sometimes I don't know anything about the future, or maybe that's because I know everything.
Sometimes I stay up too late, or drive way too fast with the radio on way too loud.
Sometimes, when it rains, I go outside because it reminds me of promises.
Or look at the stars because of past pain.
Sometimes I think about what it was like last Christmas, or the Christmas before. Each one over the last three years has been completely different. And I never saw a single one coming like it did.
I get caught in the moment, lost in the flashback, stuck in the pain, or feeling that longing feeling in the smile.


I love this crazy, tragic, sometimes almost magic, awful, beautiful life.