The memory of smoke

The memory of smoke

Thursday, April 28, 2011

No wonder, really.

I keep remembering things I said to my former friend, or did with the assumption that I was her friend, and I cringe in retroactive embarrassment. No wonder she dumped me. Although at the time, I was often assured I was fine, welcome, good as I was, accepted completely.

Apparently, not.

No comments:

Post a Comment

I really don't want comments here. Deal.

Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.