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"They" always turns to you
When you first start to love someone, everything is grand. You love the way they walk, to the way they like their lips before they speak. You love when they kiss you softly and you crave spending just one minute to see their face and hear their voice. Without them, you feel weak.
When months go by, it all changes. You start to notice little things on their face. Things you start to despise. You start to get annoyed of their blustering laugh and stop caring when they forget to text you in the mornings. Telling you to have a great day. Telling you how much they love you. You hate their curly brown hair and their beady little eyes. You hate how often they broke your brittle heart, and almost broke your brittle little bones. You used to have everything to talk about; now you sit in silence and repeat stories already told. You don't want to spend everyday with them, and you focus your attention elsewhere. Feeling guilty when you feel these new desires. Desires for other people. Desires to be loved by other people.
Then comes the day when one departs. At first you might feel ecstatic. Happy that you're free. Until that first moment. Until you get the flashbacks. You start to smile when you remember all the good times, and cry wondering how it all fell apart. You start to remember little things you never really noticed; little things you never really appreciated. Like the three little moles that traced their spine. Or the scars that ran up and down their legs. The hot chocolate they would make you when you walked in the snow just to see them. A hot showered prepared. And you try to remember, because soon you'll start to forget. Forget the color of their eyes. Forget the way he bit your lip when he kissed you. Or pulled you in closer because he was always afraid you would float away. You start to remember the look he gave you; filled with love, fear, innocence. You start to talk to yourself, saying little things he used to whisper in your ear. Before he left. Before he broke your heart, his promise, and let you go. I told you to never let me go. That was something you promised. Something you broke.
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