(I don't say this very often, so I'll try to make it articulate and you'll try to pay attention, okay?) I was wrong. I said that all the emotions we'd felt and then forgotten were a waste of time, but I was wrong. All the anger and the tears, all the heartache and the anguish, all the loves lost and hearts broken - they make us what we are. I may have forgotten the arguments I've had, the tears I've shed, the love I've left behind, but they made me stronger, or wiser, or more compassionate. They made me love a little deeper, or with a little more care. The effects live on, even if the memories don't. (With thanks to VN, for reminding me)
< - >
* the marks of memories forgotten
* wasting emotions, over again
* intentions, and such
* nothing unusual, nothing's changed - just a little older, that's all (damien rice : amie)
* now I understand! It doesn't make sense because it isn't supposed to
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