I always think it won’t.
I have been with other men,
and I can only assume you have been with other women.
Our lives are not parallel stories anymore.
We are different books and I have no idea what chapter you are on.
It’s getting harder to remember how you smelled
or how we tasted.
Time is erasing your fingertips and I don’t know if I like it.
I text you and my heart flips out when I see the typing bubble.
It’s stupid, I know.
My best friend would tell me it’s a mistake.
But you were the first thing that made sense in a long time.
You were a vision I had posted above my bed that I never figured could come true.
You were laughing until 4 am and feeling like this is how it’s supposed to be.
Like it was a best…
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