The scariest part about this all, is that I fell for you the night we met.
I'm not sure of the exact moment because all of it was just...
Almost a year and almost has matured into what the fuck.
I've affixed meaning and value to every thing we've done.
The time.
I've asked myself, why would God put us in that predicament if he didn't have a plan for us?
Maybe, there was no plan.
Maybe, I've served a purpose and you've learned a valuable lesson.
But
What about me?
Am I to believe that this was for my good?
How?
You've long given up on the idea of us.
My baggage is probably a little inconvenient.
I'm still drawing at straws because a big, big part of me still wants your corn soup, sweet kisses and strong grips.
Do you even want to make me corn soup?
I'm overthinking the overthinking, I'm thinking, did I make this bigger than it was?
Am I going to crash and burn?
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