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September 14, 2016
17 days. Sadness about not anymore being able to navigate your quirks. Sadness about knowing that behind the repetitions are nuances. Sadness about not being the person you'd call when it starts raining. Sadness about not having you to share an anchovy pizza with. Sadness about giving this all up, for what? Sadness about the uncertainty of my decision, if I change my mind, my heart, will you accept me again? Sadness about the seeming finality of this view, me across the room from you, barely hearing your voice, knowing I'm not the one to lay beside you every night.