The past really affects me. Though I wish it wouldn't, because all I can think about is how good it used to be. I hate that maybe it wasn't all that good, but my brain only remembers the painfully nostalgic memories that meant a lot. I still cry over the people I've lost, even if I would rather they didn't come back. I still find myself reminiscing about the places I used to visit every day, even if I don't have any business going there anymore. I still do, even though I know it kills me a little every time.
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