when we learn to say goodbye

sigh. enduring love, among other stuff from last year, is rushing back into my head. my rather tired head i should add.

its true. we all need to tell stories. we all need some way to understand. to make meaning. we need other stories, to make meaning of our own. which is why i talk, i ask, i recollect, all just to make sense of what has happen. and now that i think about it, nothing is ever too much. its jus that we are afraid of doing that much. now that i've gained some perspective on it, i think i can say i sort of understand. i never will truly understand, but bits and pieces, they are better than none.