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Of regret...

...when you remember that something was sundered, and it was mostly your fault but not quite, and the repercussions last and last and last. And you are reminded.

And you take a moment to sigh for what's lost. It tastes like pomegranates, or almost, anyway.

And then you proceed to write something terribly angsty and vague in a public forum because you feel that this is an emotion that ought to be shared somehow, and understood. Certainly empathized with. And you continue to write in the second person, fully aware that this is terribly angsty of you.

And then you giggle at your silliness, and sigh, and smile. Because somehow laughing at your own angst makes it just enough better that you can put it away in your Attic again.

Comments

silmaril
Oct. 4th, 2004 07:24 am (UTC)
And as angsty as it sounds, there will be someone who know exactly what you mean; possibly more than one someone.

To someone the taste is not like pomegrenates, though. Because someone doesn't have any taste-bud related senses about it. It feels like an emptiness in the appropriate place...
jalenstrix
Oct. 4th, 2004 03:43 pm (UTC)
[wry grin] Indeed. I admit to invoking tastes and colors in highly inappropriate contexts.

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Jalen Strix

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