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“It’s love. Everything about having love is embarrassing. You’re pining over someone who’s across the room hardly thinking of you. That’s incredibly embarrassing. But I also think there’s something romantic about being secretly fond of someone in a way that only you know.”
Embarrassing. She thinks I’m embarrassing. Maybe I was. Maybe that’s what happened to a person who kept going back to someone who didn’t love them.
Was I just a collection of the things no one wanted?
“You keep me up every night. I dream about August. And I dream about the night before Halloween when we kissed. And I dream about seeing you kiss someone else. I dream about things that haven’t even happened.”
There was something beautiful about falling in love with the uncertainty of life.