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22. New York/Chicago. Future attorney. Daily musings, rants, and obsessions.

Every fiber of my being aches. Your words, “This doesn’t mean we can’t be friends”, bore holes into me. Because if it were that easy to be your friend, I would have done it when I met you. Falling apart isn’t an option, but falling for you wasn’t either. And honesty doesn’t it cut it with friends because they don’t want to hear that I still want to be with you. So I’m left searching for traces of you, any remnant I can find to hold onto to keep me sane knowing that you’re not here.