#also thanks for tolerating my insane cherik posting the past few days

[beforetimes]

just something so crazy about it. you spend years of your life chasing after half-written happy endings you know you're not meant to have, but take a chance on anyway. just because you find a penny lying heads-up on the same chilly dusk evening you've found out you're in love with your best friend: luck is telling you against the odds that there will be sprawls of life grown from gravel in the wake of this. only for all those things to fall to the wayside, dried leaves marking the grave of an old-but-not-forgotten dead garden. something or other about how the past fades but never disappears. you try to clear away withered old roses and thorns for a touch of new life and get so wrapped up in the scent of flora that you don't notice things have never really changed; not until you start to pay attention to the crunch of dead leaves under your feet under the summer sun.