Story from 130819

writing story

published 1970-01-01 00:00

updated 1970-01-01 00:00

%date 130819 00:00

Do you remember when you said you wouldn't let the ░▖▗▟▞s between the blocks bother you because concrete wasn't the adhesive that would bind us together? Do you remember when distance was merely the conception of an idea between two places? What happened to the words you once said? You said that neither mountains nor valleys could echo what we had, and even if they could what was an echo in the face of sound? You didn't lie. You weren't telling the truth either. You didn't know. I can't blame you for what you had no idea about what you had no idea about. It's not your fault. It's not mine either, is it? I forgave you for your faults, but will you blame me for mine? I didn't know what I didn't know either. It wasn't my fault. Not mine. Not me. Just a few times. I can't help it. Can I? No, I can't. I wasn't immune to my problem, which isn't to say some people are, but somewhere along the road I found a sign that said there's no going back. I couldn't. I couldn't just give it all up. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair to me. It wasn't fair to you. It just wasn't fair.