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Countless
Do you remember the countless amount of times when you woke up, and all your makeup was sloppily wiped off your face? Do you remember the countless amount of times when you woke up, and a baby sat on your bed with a towel in her hand? Do you remember the countless amount of times you re-did your makeup, the countless amount of times the baby started crying? No, you don't remember. You were too busy worrying about what Dan would think of your mascara.
Do you remember the countless amount of times when you woke up, and all your text messages were deleted? Do you remember the countless amount of times when you woke up, and a toddler sat on your bed with a phone in her hand? Do you remember the countless amount of times you freaked out and frantically tried to retrieve the messages, the countless amount of times the toddler started crying? No, you don't remember. You were too busy worrying about texting Dan again to refill your inbox.
Do you remember the countless amount of times when you woke up, and all your unsent love letters were demolished? Do you remember the countless amount of times when you woke up, and a kindergartener sat on your bed with a permanent marker and a stack of letters in her hand? Do you remember the countless amount of times you screamed at the little girl and rushed to rewrite your letters, the countless amount of times the kindergartener started crying? No, you don't remember. You were too busy worrying about the letters Dan wouldn't be sent if you didn't rewrite every word.
Do you remember the countless amount of times when you woke up, and all your couple photos were torn? Do you remember the countless amount of times when you woke up, and a third-grader sat on your bed with shredded flakes of pictures in her hand? Do you remember the countless amount of times you scanned every camera for those pictures because you loved them so much, the countless amount of times the third-grader started crying? No, you don't remember. You were too busy worrying about your demolished memories with Dan.
Do you remember the countless amount of times when you woke up, and all your wedding plans were ruined? Do you remember the countless amount of times when you woke up, and an elementary school graduate sat on your bed, with a pitcher of water and melting stash of wedding plan papers in her hand? Do you remember the countless amount of times you snatched the crumbling mess out of her hands and tried to dry it out, the countless amount of times the elementary school graduate started crying? No, you don't remember. You were too busy worrying about your stupid wedding plans with Dan.
Do you remember the countless amount of times when you woke up, and all your bedroom mirrors were shattered? Do you remember the countless amount of times when you woke up, and an eighth-grader that sat on your bed, with tiny shards of bloody glass stabbed into the flesh in her hand? Do you remember the countless amount of times you ran to gather and tape together the remains, the countless amount of times the eighth-grader started crying? No, you don't remember. You were too busy worrying about whether Dan would think you were pretty when you walked down the aisle in the dress he picked out that you didn't like.
Do you remember the countless amount of times when you woke up, and your husband was knocked out on the floor? Do you remember the countless amount of times when you woke up, and a sophomore sat on your bed with blood running down her legs and marks in her hand? Do you remember the countless amount of times you hurried to comfort your husband, the countless amount of times the sophomore started crying? No, you don't remember. You were too busy worrying about whether Dan was feeling all right or not.
Do you remember the time when you woke up, and a certain baby, toddler, kindergartener, third-grader, elementary school graduate, eighth-grader, sophomore was destroyed? Do you remember the time when you woke up, and a certain baby, toddler, kindergartener, third-grader, elementary school graduate, eighth-grader, sophomore sat on your bed with a knife in her hand? Do you remember the time you finally reached out your own hand to comfort her, the time when a certain baby, toddler, kindergartener, third-grader, elementary school graduate, eighth-grader, sophomore started crying? Yes, you remember. You finally glanced her way, only you were a baby, toddler, kindergartener, third-grader, elementary school graduate, eighth-grader, sophomore too late.
Do you remember the countless amount of times when you woke up, and a certain baby girl was gone? Do you remember the countless amount of times when you woke up, and there was no baby, toddler, kindergartener, third-grader, elementary school graduate, eighth-grader, sophomore to sit on your bed? Do you remember the countless amount of bruises that trailed her sides, molding perfectly with your husband's fists; the countless amount of times you wished you had listened to that baby girl? Yes, you finally remember. But you were too busy loving Dan to remember on time, before there was a countless amount of it.
Do you remember the countless amount of times when you woke up, and you just didn't want to wake up anymore? Do you remember the countless amount of times when you woke up, haunted by the makeup you wore to disguise the girl your husband didn't think was beautiful, haunted by the text messages you wished you didn't save, haunted by the letters you wished you didn't rewrite, haunted by the pictures you wished you never searched for, haunted by the wedding plans you wished you let melt away, haunted by the shattered mirrors that reflected your life that you wished you never taped back together, haunted by the man that you wished you didn't revive instead of the baby, toddler, kindergartener, third-grader, elementary school graduate, eighth-grader, sophomore. You remember your countless mistakes more than everything else. And you will never, ever, ever wake up and forget.
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