I think tht for along time i've struggled to comprehend the vocabulary anomaly: LOVE. As I read Piccolt i'm present to the story of my past a bittersweet end to a wonderful chocolate centre. I'm eager to find out how the story ends. I imagine that delia and I are one and the same, yet I dare to admit it out loud.

I think back on these years and I feel it all slowly slipping away, I need to let go. Honest to goodness, I don't want to not because I believe it can return to the way it was. Cos I'll make sure that never happens, but because it was too good to be wasted away or to lose hold of. like my worn out Tee.. out of style, but still in tune with my heart.

I think of bus rides and tears, I think of love notes and night skies, All i remember now that is was such a long time ago. How I don't want to let go, and how I must move on. How I want to let go for all the right reasons but I still grip tightly to them like I did my baby bloster..