Call It Chicken Salad

I Always Have A Goal, Even If I Keep It To Myself. It Allows Me To Keep Pushing Myself.

It Doesn't Matter, Anyway, Why You Like Me. Just That You Do.

She Was So Emotional, On The Verge Of Tears. This Was What I'd Wanted To Prevent With All Those Quick Disappearances, The Tangledness Of Farewells And All The Baggage They Brought With Them. But Now, Looking At Deb, I Realized What Else I'd Given Up: Knowing For Sure That Someone Was Going To Miss Me. What Happened To Goodbye, Michael In Westcott Had Written On My Ume.com Page. I Was Pretty Sure I Knew, Now. It Had Been Packed Away In A Box Of Its Own, Trying To Be Forgotten, Until I Really Needed It. Until Now.

Like It Takes So Little Not Only To Change Something, But To Make You Forget The Way It Once Was, As Well.

All Those Clean, Fresh Starts Had Made Me Forget What It Was Like, Until Now, To Be Messy And Honest And Out Of Control. To Be Real.