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"I love you" came easily. Too easily. I denied it, but it came in that first moment I saw him. He was full of life, mischief and rebellion. All the things I wanted to be, wanted to have. But he wasn't mine, he was never really mine. In time, I came to believe that I held some small part of him in my hands; I knew I kept a large part of him in my heart.

But then it changed. He changed. I changed.

"I love you" never went away, but now it was punctuated with "why do I love you?" And "you said you loved me." Fear crept into my heart, doubts into my head and accusations out of my mouth.

He pulled away and I pushed back. He edged back in and I threw it in his face. We cried. A lot. We cried together and I cried alone. Finally, I just cried alone. He was gone. He had changed me, inside and out, and left me to deal with the aftermath, with the fallout.

And I never got to say my hardest words. I never got to say "goodbye."

Created: Apr 15, 2014


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