I Was Beginning To See, Though, That

It's Always Been Hard To Call Myself A Writer. I Think A Part Of Me Still Thinks It's Too Good To Be True.

Everyone Has Their Weak Spot. The One Thing That, Despite Your Best Efforts, Will Always Bring You To Your Knees, Regardless Of How Strong You Are Otherwise.

There Comes A Time In Every Life When The World Gets Quiet And The Only Thing Left Is Your Heart.

I Got Back In My Car, Starting The Engine, Then Drove Off. It Wasn't Until I Pulled Onto The Highway That It All Really Sunk It, How Temporary Our Friendship Had Been. We'd Been On Our Breaks, After All, But It Wasn't Our Relationships That Were On Pause: It Was Us. Now We Were Both In Motion Again, Moving Ahead. So What If There Were Questions Left Unanswered. Life Went On. We Knew That Better Than Anyone.

The Silence Wasn't Like The Ones I'd Known Lately, Though: It Wasn't Empty As Much As Chosen. There's A Entirely Different Feel To Quiet When You're With Some-one Else, And At Any Moment It Could Be Broken. Like The Difference Between A Pause And An Ending.