(no subject)

I remember how Beau used to be obsessed with my past. In some way, I am too. Maybe because I wrote almost every day then. And because although I'm ok now, although I have a desk job and own blazers and have a makeup routine. A handsome boyfriend who takes care of me when I feel sick and makes cute jokes, who is a really good person, who I will probably marry. I know that that summer with David is only still important because it's when I lost some of my closest friends. I'm sorry I was so absorbed with feeling dangerous and with recording all his lies in selfish poems. I'm not sorry about him at all, but I'm sorry I lost you guys. For anyone who still reads this, I'm sorry it's taken me awhile to say so.