Yeah. Theoretically, of course, it could. It could always get worse.

It's okay. It will be okay. Theoretically, of course, it will always be okay. Unless you die. Then hope's gone. As permenantly as sharpie on your favorite jeans.

I want to be back at the beach. I want to never leave. To forever be a part of the waves, sand, and wind. And I'd never need to come back.



hold me close like we both died
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