in between the lines

any words i try to use to describe how i think and feel when i think and feel you seem to roll off like water on a well-waxed windshield. i'm adding information in between the lines of old memories and i suppose if i was writing in ink there would be tear stains. it's the kind of disturbed and unfinished thoughts that keep my forheard wrinkled and my words unable to assimilate.

pity, no - you're too strong to need it. empathy, no - i didn't live you. sympathy, no - you don't need more sorrow. angry, maybe a little.
it's twisted and wrong and it hurts me just knowing how it hurt you. it stole a part of you i'd have liked to know then. back then. in my memories.