A few days ago me and petra went to bowness, to that house where it all began, two years ago, almost to the week. the weather was the same and we felt we were transported back. like nothing had changed in these two years, though everything has. those days made us who we are today. Looking back, we were all so different, so inexperienced, so new. "that house was a house of freedom" i remember writing, after my first night there. that first night was, for lack of a better word, weird. crying by the river, sitting on the swinging bench, running into kaeleigh and ni and diving into those preverbial waters. Sitting in rain's room, strobe light, swords and dragons. All piled on the bed, laughing. Me and petra sneaking to the sex shack, leaving our tags on the floor and walls, the first girls to do so. Stumbling to go sleep on the couch, andrew passed out on the floor, snoring. Not falling asleep, going out and sitting by the river at the break of dawn, alone. A depressive state, last night's excitement ran away, leaving me blank. Andrew followed me and we talked, throwing stones. Eventually we all had to leave, taking the 1 back downtown. So tired, i rested my head on andrew, he was a good pillow. somehow he ended up with his arm around me. it was great, i think. i thought it was. we ate mcdonalds, they'd bought me a salad, it was disgusting. we went to marysia's, washing our hair and using perfume because we were nervous wrecks. Laughable. The colours were brighter after that day. It was a good time, had by all. And we went back. we found the sex shack, found our tags in black spray paint. we left another, with sharpies. walking back along the house, lost in memories laying thick everywhere. It didn't occur to us that someone else lived here now, that they were home and wouldn't appreciate two teens walking through their property. but we didn't care. we stared frozen at that front entrance, where we crossed the threshold into the next chapter. Petra gasped and started walking away, saying she's seen eyes looking at her. we rushed away, still high on nostalgia and dumbfounded that we'd acctualy came back. But we did, and it was needed.
this is the reason i broke up with him in the first place. because it was so much stress and it just seemed hopeless. i know that's a harsh word but its true. he's got so much on his plate and i dont want any more on mine. i have my own set of worries i need to take care of. but i cant just turn him away. the way he opened up to me...it litteraly moved me to tears. i feel his dispair, his depression. he has nothing. but i dont want him to have no one too. at the moment i feel thats all i can do; give him the comfort of knowing that i'm here for him, that he has me. contrairy to his beleifs he hasnt lost me. if he really had, i wouldnt have seen him yestrerday, or tuesday, or any times before that. we wouldnt have acted or talked the way we did if he'd truley lost me. his words stung because i felt his pain through them. his feelings soaking the words and turning them a different colour. i never told him to get the fuck out of my life, but it hurt to know thats how he fe
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beautiful.
its weird, it seems to me like you guys did so much there.... i was only there a couple times and i don't feel affected by it at all really, i never really cared for it, and its weird cause i remember feeling left out that month cause everyone wanted to go there and it was cool and fun and i never cared lol. it was a very sweet house though, the river, the swing, the shack and the lights and the picture on the door