So I was looking at old pictures from my trip to NZ with the man that went away and it made me feel alienated and sad because I could not recognize the girl in the pictures. I could not remember the person I was then or identify myself with the smiles. But I do remember that that girl was very happy. Despite occasionally tears of confusion over life from a failure to behave predictably it was not tears of loss, grief or despair. And it was only when feeling really down.
So that girl was happy and pretty sure - not where life was taking her- but that it was going to be a damn good journey. The pictures tell me a story about a not too serious a girl trying to have fun and really enjoy every moment. Did I somehow know? All the imaginary photos and memories are stored in my private computer and sometimes when I close my eyes and focus real hard I can still feel his stubbled chin on my neck kissing me goodnight. I am glad that at least I have that.
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