I find myself often dreaming about the future. Keeping it in the front of my mind. Daydreaming; focusing all my attention. Because the present isn’t something that I like to live in.
I find myself often remembering the past. I tell stories about the good times, how good it used to be. Because it used to be so damn good. And I took it so for granted.
My heart carries all of the bad times. My heart carries all of the hard times. My heart dwells in its own pain, even when I try not to.