I was alone in the dead of night, my legs swinging over the side of my bed. I longed for love, the kind you write poems about.
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I was pushed down in the school corridor, and some boy I had never seen before helped me up. I didn't learn his name until later that day when I realised I had three classes with him.
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We held hands painfully tight, scared that if a sliver of air were to get in between us, we'd crumble into the sea.
Scared that if anything interfered, our love wouldn't be so special anymore.
Scared that if one of us stopped caring as much as the other, there'd be no use in saying sorry, because we're already done for; we're already specks in the dust.
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You haven't been around for a while, and I'm scared you've found somebody new. You wouldn't tell me if you did, would you? You never did trust me.
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I was emailed last night. You know what it was, don't you? An invitation to your wedding on the other side of town.
I shook my head, and pressed the Delete button, just like you did to us.