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The tree. It’s waving at me. Calling me. Begging me to come out. Run away from Here. This prison, holding me back from my                          deepest                                                                              longing. I hate it Here. I need to go. I need to run away from Here. Run to Him. That tree… I dream of the other tree. The tree under which we promised with our lips; Promised that Someday, we will have each other, without having to   Hide.                         Wait.                                          ....Run. But maybe, if we want, *we will run anyway.* The tree keeps waving at me. It hasn’t given up.
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Mar 28, 2016
Mar 28, 2016 at 12:04 PM UTC
the tree
The tree. It’s waving at me. Calling me. Begging me to come out. Run away from Here. This prison, holding me back from my                          deepest                                                                              longing. I hate it Here. I need to go. I need to run away from Here. Run to Him. That tree… I dream of the other tree. The tree under which we promised with our lips; Promised that Someday, we will have each other, without having to   Hide.                         Wait.                                          ....Run. But maybe, if we want, *we will run anyway.* The tree keeps waving at me. It hasn’t given up.
105D11
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Mar 28, 2016
Mar 28, 2016 at 12:04 PM UTC
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