Just woke up. Haven't thought about you in a long time, Stephen. Yet, every time I do, it's nothing but the ache of what could've and what should've been.
It was supposed to be me. You and me, and real love. Now it'll always just remain, the one who got away. I guess I still can't convince myself that you really just didn't want me, none of your actions added up. That connection just doesn't add up to not love.
I haven't thought of you in a long time, and no matter how much we hurt each other, I still love you. I guess I always will.
It should've been us. But I guess life doesn't give us broken people that much luck. Or at least one of us.
So I guess the memory of you will have to be buried away again until the next time my random subconscious chooses to have you submerge again for no reason at all. But nobody can say that I didn't try.
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