And what was, what could have been, and what is. Ignorance truly is bliss.
Your happiness, I do not relish knowing of. Your pains, I wish not to hear of. Let me be ignorant of your accomplishments, be ignorant of your woes — so that I do not bear the frustration of my absence in your celebration, of my hand too far, miles off, to dry your tears away.
Let me be ignorant of you. So that in bliss, I will find that there can be life without you.
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fajsdklfjaklfjasklfjsklfjakfja....FEEL THIS. SRSLY
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