Sometimes, I like to sit around and think about my life with you. I find it overwhelmingly sad when it feels like you provide the perfect example for things.
Those fragile three words I hate so much, but in secret, I cling to them as my only hope for this word. I hate them because they're thrown around, and you insist that not you. But I feel like I could believe it before, but no longer.
I can't believe I gave everything to the knowledge that nothing would last and there was no real "forever" to start with. Everything to something that would be given away so quickly for someone else. Everything for that.
Do I really care? I knew all along.
No, to the words.
The tallied words of three.
Pre and Past makes two
and fall+jump makes four.
Word of two is me and you.
But word of three is only
Sorry.'
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