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It’s been over a year. I haven’t gone a day where thoughts of you didn’t manage to infiltrate my best defenses. I work at it, you know. But every day something happens and there it is. You’re still gone.
I couldn’t keep lying to him, and the fact that you didn’t seem to have much of a problem doing the same on your end should have been a red flag. There were lots of those, in retrospect.
But you said you were in love. Your words. Such beautiful, poetic words.
“I could die tomorrow but I will always find my way back to you.”
When you began to disappear it nearly destroyed me. I understand now, I think, that you’d never spent years wishing I hadn’t gotten away. It was just the line that you knew would work best.
I guess it’s justice, really. I’m sure I deserved it. I just want to let you go.
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