Ok so I'm on the living room floor of my apartment because we have no couch still and it dawned on me that my journal is OLD. Like...seven-years-six-months-old. You know what else are old? SCARY ASS ROBOTIC TOYS
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Tonight I'm missing everyone. Including the person I used to be. I'm happy with who I am now. Not completely though. Lost contacts were found again. My past coming back to slap me. Forcing me to think of things that are always in the back of my mind. Bringing them in front of me. The pain never goes away...not really.