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May 21, 2013
The hours are long but time seems to be scarce. Time to recover from the effort of forgetting you, of consoling myself that it's not the end of the world if you can't love me, of convincing myself that it's okay even if it's not me you choose. The hours are long in between the chances of being able to see you but then when I'm with you time becomes a ghost. You are dear to me and I have to be okay upon waking up in the morning knowing you don't see me the way that I see you.