You say: I dated her a while back.
You don’t say: Sometimes, when I’m holding you, I imagine the smell of her vanilla perfume.
You say: She was younger than me.
You don’t say: The sixteen summers in her bones warmed the eighteen winters my skin had weathered.
You say: It’s nothing now.
You don’t say: But it was everything then.
Say all of that but then add “or whatever” to the end
most people think the airplane on my left wrist isn’t a yellowcard homage which is cool they can think that but to me it’s the beginning of the holly wood trifecta and “left the ground in black and white and when the plane came down the colours all around” as in the first song (chronologically) about holly (rough landing holly track 6, space travel 10 and holly wood died 14) and sometimes I dream about winning the lottery while also living in a world where tattoos are 110% acceptable in the workplace and I think about an entire (or at least a half) sleeve dedicated to that album, of cities burning and smoke and smog entwining and it being so dark and “you can’t see the sky here at night so I guess I can’t find my way back” and maybe there would be a skyline and my favourite lyrics just wound around the buildings like a pulse and the stars twinkling in a rude manner saying I’m “stuck here on my own” and that album may just be an album to most, but then album is my lifeblood and it means so much to me how it starts huge with three flights up in happiness and hopefulness and by the end of it it’s just “it’s three flights down to happiness. Be sure you close the door” and lights and sounds will be an album I will still be listening to when im on my deathbed in the hospital and you can bet I’m going to go out while listening to holly wood died and if I don’t then I’m doing myself a dishonour.