Isn’t it funny that we dream of these stories– these could’ve been’s, would’ve been’s, should be’s –and when the time comes, fate screws it over and you curse and you scream at it because that’s not what you planned, not what you thought of. But that’s just life, ain’t it? It sounds so mediocre and so used up– reasoning that everything happens for a reason or that it’s life. It’s just life, c’est la vie, but it’s what we cling to still. I don’t know why. I don’t know why we keep on doing this when we know what the outcome is. Do we even think that somehow, someday it would turn out to be different? That somewhow fate will play alongside us and not against us? Maybe, maybe it’s not our beliefs at all that’s holding us together. Maybe it’s hope. It’s hope. That never undying flame of hope. Maybe that’s what it is. Look, I just wanted a perfect night with you where the stars all aligned and everything just fell into place. Just one night.

— Forgotten Journal Entries, 2013

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