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When he speaks, an air of charm and confidence waves about him like the British Union Jack fluttering in the breeze high up in the air. I looked up to him, both literally and figuratively.
When he walks, his footsteps are always brisk and frivolously hasty.
We cross the road, we land ashore the busy streets. We battled our way through the crowd. He never held my hand, he had left me trialing tightly behind him whilst I paved my own way through.
He kept me waiting for hours while he hung out with his friends.
Summer left as soon as it bestowed on us. Our homes stretched from a few steps away to miles apart.
I longed to hear his voice and share heart to heart conversations; I wanted to see his face. No calls, no web-caming as promised. My happiness was amongst the bottom of his priorities.
During the nights, he left me feeling anxious and paranoid, afraid if I left, bad things will start happening. Almost as if there’s some dangerous creature lurking in the dark but I can’t see it, I can only imagine.
No more.
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