I danced as he twirled in and out of consciousness, and there we were, one in love and the other astray.
I’ve spent awhile trying to figure out where I’m going and the only thing I’ve come to realize is it doesn’t matter where, it’s how I get there.
Someone's therapist knows all about you.
When you look in the mirror, do you look at yourself or for yourself?
I love you, but there will be a dozen more too.
Sure, he might not have been perfect, but if I thought he was, isn’t that all that matters?
It was love. It was lust. It was just between us. The passion, the desire, the fire. The way we held on in so little time and his eyes when he saw me for the first time.
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