je suis un bébé requin,
and this is a photo journal of a previous life.
mardi 23 décembre 2014
When my snot turns into tears I will bottle it and make cheese.
 Tear production acts as a protective layer over your eyes. Normally, when there isn’t an overload of tears, the tears run down your lacrimal drainage system and they pass out your nose as mucus, but when there is an overload of tears they start to fall out of your eyelids and run down your cheeks.

Last week I tuned into the BBC and read an article entitled ‘My grandfather’s true love’. It was a tearjerker; a short article revealing how a grand daughter found that her grandfather was madly in love with a woman in Europe, before fleeing to America to start a new life after the war.

It reminded me of you. I think about you years on. It isn’t the sort of selfish love you read about, but it is an unrequited love. Each morning I wake myself up, and have to tell myself that I hate you. I don’t, but perhaps one day I will. At least that way, I will be able to move on properly, and not go about ruining other people’s lives because of my selfishness. Perhaps I will finally be able to sit comfortably with someone new, without thinking about what was.

Perhaps I have begun to relish heartbreak. Each time, it is like a natural disaster within my body, and battling on and prevailing in times of heartache perhaps makes me feel like my very own heroine. The longer the heartbreak drains on, the bigger the hero I put myself out to be. However enough is enough, and I am finally putting you out to die… I mean dry.

No more snot will be wasted thinking of you, and you will never get the place of my true love. Perhaps I loved you long, and deeply, but you were, and never will be my lover.

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