"our lives are made up of these tiny histories. we collect them, and they stay inside us, and no amount of explaining can ever make someone understand what they felt like."
and we lose these histories with everyone's passing and we'll never know what was inside them except general things and what they chose to share. i, too, wonder what others will remember of me.
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and we lose these histories with everyone's passing and we'll never know what was inside them except general things and what they chose to share. i, too, wonder what others will remember of me.
-V.
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