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Once upon a time

You said to ask. If I needed anything in my future, all I'd have to do is ask. But what I need is for this to be gone, or to have never existed...So the memories can be gone, disappear like they never even were. 

The memories of where we sat. And where we talked. And how you looked. And what I wore. And what you said. And what we swore. And what I feared. And what you hid. Or what I feared you hid. 

All those memories make the feelings too strong. Too current. Too real. But you can't "fix" that while those memories are still here. And neither can I. So I just get angry. Or sad. Or confused. And it intensifies how much I hate you. And how much I hate everything we lost. Because I'm sure that you already forgot the memories, or never had them in the first place. And it was really just me, by myself, all along. 

But what can either of us do to fix that now? Nothing...And what's left to work for or hope for...Nothing...And what could I possibly ask you to help with...

Nothing...And that's why there's no such thing as a good goodbye. But really, it was nice of you to offer... 

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Another audience, another story:
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Can't really say that "you're the one" without recalling those before. 
And "The one who picked me up" means you've seen me on the floor. 
I'm sorry I can't give you the cleanest start that you deserve. 
And there's no reason why you'd love me, when you've seen me at my worst.

But you always stopped my tears without questioning the cause. 
You even healed my hurt without doubting what I'd lost. 
Only you could calm my nerves without tiring of the wait. 
Only you could bring me peace without placing any blame. 

Can't really say "I'm ready now" without implying not before. 
But you've loved me at my worst and I owe you so much more. 
If you've loved me broken as I'd been, undeserving as I was,
Then I'll take the leap and trust that soon I'll feel a part of "us."



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