so you find yourself sitting in bed and staring into space. or rather, your eyes may be blank but your mind is transfixed upon the memories you have recalled in your moment of solitude.

all the little things, and the big ones. ones which leave you with a little laugh, butterflies in your tummy, but generally ones which leave you wistful and yearning for more.

and then you look out of the window, hoping to see a shooting star, and seeing none, but wishing anyway.

and it makes you feel a little better. because there's no better cure than a little faith.

you sigh and then you close your eyes. the emotions felt not so long ago still raw.

and then invades the nasty memories, the inevitable that would happen each time you wish to recall memories. you get both the good, and the bad.

the bad whcih leaves you almost choked up with bitterness, which you swallow because you're supposed to be over it and you are over it.
so you let the hurt penetrate you, but then you get over it.
or you run away from it. whichever is your coping machanism.

and all is fine and dandy once again.