Sunday, February 12, 2012

I remember sitting at Jesse's kitchen table one night while they were in the back practicing. I became completely distracted from my homework when they started playing that sad song. I just sat there staring into space, listening. It's obvious, this is not working out. Even though it was just an account of some past failed relationship, it somehow felt like a prediction. An inevitable conclusion that I would have to face sooner or later. I started to cry.

Ça marche pas, Emilie.

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