Tuesday, 30 September 2008

Why is it that every time we fall in love we fall apart? What if every time we fall apart, we lose another piece of ourselves? is there a requisite amount of time we're allotted to fall apart until there's not enough parts to put ourselves back together again? When we fall in love, do we swap pieces with the other or does the other simply take pieces of us and never really gives them back again?

Are the holes in our souls only ever the significant shape of someone else that we need to find in order to fill them? What if we try too hard to fill the hole with the wrong people, does it distort the hole and it's size and shape so that we're less likely to notice when the perfect fit comes along a they may fall straight through?

& what if there is no perfect fit?


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