There are so many tomorrows you haven’t had yet. It’s an end to something you haven’t even had a real chance to start. This is the hardest thing to let go of: the thing you never really had.

Maybe I decided the only way to not have my heart broken again was to ignore the very things that make it beat. That withered thing sits in my chest and pulses only slightly when he tells me I look beautiful. I will it to stop.


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