Four years of what used to be my life are stacked on my bedroom floor. Kinda funny if you think about it.
Give me a number and there's a memory attached.
Page 50 was from that time when I still cared about their opinions.
Page 103. Still can't believe I liked him.
Here's where she signed before she realized she had better things to do than talk to me.
And you. Why did you like me then? I was ugly as fuck.
Hey, this picture was taken before we ever thought about making out.
Hey, this picture was taken before we confessed that yes, we really did care about each other.
Oh damn. My hair really was that bad.
(and yes, I know, it basically still is. But it's significantly better than it used to be, like myself.)
