Tell me the story
About how the sun
Loved the moon so much
He died every night
To let her breathe ~
Sometimes at night I suddenly become aware of all the things I’m missing out on right now, and all the people who I’m not close to anymore, and all of the good times that will never happen again, and all the people who meant the world to me who have forgotten about me forever, and I get this awful feeling that’s kind of like a mix between loneliness and nostalgia.
