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He was holding his jacket over my head as we ran.
There was something cruel about your parents deciding to bring you into the world, and just choosing not to be with you in it.
I wore these thoughts like a Scarlet Letter since that night in August. They smeared my face every time I looked at him.
“You know that’s not what I meant. I prefer you in every room.”
His hand wrapped around mine on the fabric, forcing me to look up. “Just because we have a deal doesn’t mean I don’t respect your boundaries.”
You don’t have to say now. Just let me know beforehand. Or during. Whenever you want to see me, I’ll come.”
I don’t want to miss your birthday. I want to be there. As a friend.”
“What do you want me to say? That I’ve fallen madly in love with her and think about her every waking second as if she’s poisoned me?”
“I gave you the censored version, that’s why. I also don’t think you’re supposed to find your friends beautiful.”
“I’m waiting for you!” he yelled back, the rain shadowing his words.
I was a reflection of the things I carried. So what did that mean if the things I collected were destined to be tossed away? Was I just a collection of the things no one wanted?
“The mistakes I regret the most are the ones I didn’t allow to happen.
She was my favorite painting.
“You can’t just make me fall in love with you and take it all back,” I whispered. “Say something. Please.”
She came all the way here, for me.
There was something beautiful about falling in love with the uncertainty of life.