I used to squeeze his hand three times when we sat among people. It was one of the ways to say I LOVE YOU. What happened to that love? None of us are angels but devils we gladly acted. In the end, it felt like a story that caused paper cuts with every page turned. I used to think it was simply bad luck, but in the ABC of life you can not blame luck. "There there, you are ok!" my brain tells my heart. I seem to channel my feelings in words, I believe that exporting your feelings is a smart way to overcome. Why is it at certain moments, we feel the no need to acknowledge that love? People would ask me are you ok? I would confidently answer, "Of course". Is it the speeding cars full of people, adventures, stories, laughter that pick you and allow you to enjoy being single and released of a thigh that you will soon start craving? What is this cycle that always has unfinished business?
It's like looking at a mirror
Sleepless,
MK
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