Journal of Wandering Thoughts holds all of the bits and pieces that runs through my mind on different occasions. Those thoughts do not have to hold a special meaning; they do not have to make sense. Those thoughts are simply words that I desperately need to etch somewhere-they need a place to belong, so I found them a place where they get the opportunity to feel tangible. Thank you.
That Night:
I would like to say that that night, I pulled an Edward Cullens-that I sat by his side, watched as he peacefully drifted off, and then climbed out of his bedroom window even before the sun dared to touch the morning skyline. But I didn't. I trudged myself to his living room couch. I sobbed for about five minutes straight. I fell asleep to the sound of the air conditioning.
