blackbird, fly

I haven't dared to post these photos on this space, but now that this blog is more or less private, here goes.

Why isn't love enough?

I miss him, I think I still love him, with whatever traces of love I can find lurking in the corners of places we've been to, songs we listened to and every song he sang to me, clothes I've worn, and in the cracks and crevices of my memory. I'm cautious to walk around school. I can't visit certain places or take certain buses without feeling a huge pang of nostalgia.

What do I do.