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Sad,beautifultragiclove

swalker
over 2 years Story
Sad, beautiful tragic love

Drinking a London fog tea latte at my airport gate a little early. Sad beautiful tragic playing on my headphones. It's been 13 hours since news from him. It'll be at least another 13 hours, 13 days, 13 weeks, 13 months. He's pleased to respond back in conversation and the banter brings a rush of comfort and euphoria.

We had a beautiful magic love affair. 

Minus the love. 

Words, how little they mean when you're a little too late.

I can't figure out why it's so easy to fall back in with you. I know it goes nowhere, but it's a high like nothing I've ever known.

It was rare, I was there, I remember it all too well.

But it changes nothing
Can we agree in 5 years to reconnect if we're both still single?
Can we skip the 5 years wait part?

In dreams, I meet you in lone conversation
We both wake, lonely beds, different cities
and time it's taking its sweet time erasing you

The dust will settle and surreal will sink in. Goodbye again. You're worth talking to but reality is always humbling. Disappointing. Saddening. I can't go back to talking with you. I love it, but at the end of the day we'll both wake, lonely beds, different cities.

I thought this morning it'd be good enough to say goodbye. 

Now I struggle to find motivation to change.
And I struggle to understand how you can just respond as friends. I still get a rush talking to you. If I'd told you earlier would anything have changed?
Would you give us a chance?
I don't want to leave anymore. I don't want to move on from you. 

I don't know how to be something you miss. 

It's funny how we think it's so hard to give someone up.
But then you do, and life goes on just as fine without them.

I confess babe, in my dreams you're touching my face and asking me if I wanna try again with you

And I almost do

Why do we have to have an end? Why does this have to have an end? Why can't we have a second chance instead?

I wish I could run to you
And I hope you know that every time I don't 
I almost do.

I'm glad to hear of your changes and humility. It's amazing. But it's not mine to miss. That's done. You're opening up about struggles. Across town, so am I, but we won't fix each other or celebrate recovery together. You gave up drinking and I gave up chasing after you.

I'll survive. I've poured out my heart. And I'll pick up the pieces. It's the most disappointing ending to accept.

I bet you're sitting in your chair by the window looking out at the city.

And I hope sometimes you wonder about me.


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