Noot6
Level 12
It's funny how you can become someone else's autobiography. A piece of their history written into our minds and we become storytellers. We tell the story of the times we shared, memories we created with friends.
But as amazing as that can be, it can also be a hell if you become someone's keepsake. A memento of someone who is gone that won't ever be in our life again. When you become so swallowed in the memories you shared with someone that you relive them before you sleep every night. Dreaming of the days they were there and all the meaningful moments that you can't ever have with them again.
When you become someone's keepsake, you sing a song that is long gone because it's stuck in your head. It loops in your head day after day. Being someone's keepsake means that you can't move on and that you're too swallowed up in grief to feel a proper grip on yourself. You become a mess that misses someone that doesn't even live anymore.
Sorry if this was a heavy topic that is quite different from my otherwise normal posts like "Pink Cloud Summer" or "The Spring of Pink flowers" or "A Rainbow Hidden In Butterflies". I like talking about topics that pop into my mind. This one was a bit different as it's been in the back of my head for a while. If you felt it was rather personal, I'm sorry. Most of my post about topics are personal to me, they are all things that have actively been a part of my life at some point. Either in thought or in reality.
But as amazing as that can be, it can also be a hell if you become someone's keepsake. A memento of someone who is gone that won't ever be in our life again. When you become so swallowed in the memories you shared with someone that you relive them before you sleep every night. Dreaming of the days they were there and all the meaningful moments that you can't ever have with them again.
When you become someone's keepsake, you sing a song that is long gone because it's stuck in your head. It loops in your head day after day. Being someone's keepsake means that you can't move on and that you're too swallowed up in grief to feel a proper grip on yourself. You become a mess that misses someone that doesn't even live anymore.
Sorry if this was a heavy topic that is quite different from my otherwise normal posts like "Pink Cloud Summer" or "The Spring of Pink flowers" or "A Rainbow Hidden In Butterflies". I like talking about topics that pop into my mind. This one was a bit different as it's been in the back of my head for a while. If you felt it was rather personal, I'm sorry. Most of my post about topics are personal to me, they are all things that have actively been a part of my life at some point. Either in thought or in reality.