79. All that mattered
10:17 p.m. & Tuesday, Jul. 11, 2006


The shells I collected as a child, tell a whole other story about the life that I once lived.

- A time when my favorite color was blue.
And daddy and I would bury each other in the sand, that, at the end of the day would be embedded underneath our nails, leaving them dirty and black.

I didn�t need to know who I was then.
I was daddy�s girl..

And to me, that was all that mattered.


I want to remember What takes a lifetime to forget