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Bye. Farewell. 

Maybe in another time. Another day, we will be crossing the street and I will bump into you. Maybe my arm will brush against yours and our eyes meet. Maybe we’ll speak. Maybe we’ll just pretend not to remember our younger years. But not today. I will not message you and beg. I will not come running back, cuz thats what you expect. I demand to hear you say I miss you. I demand you to saying I’m sorry. I demand you come back this time. But for now goodbye. I can’t take the stabs. I can’t take the pain. The way you play me over and over like a broken record. Maybe one day I’ll run into you at the store buying bread for your family or at the local bar drinking away your lonliness. Maybe you’ll be rich maybe you’ll be poor. Maybe one day we’ll meet again but till then farwell. Goodbye. My good ol’ friend. 



18 years of living 👽🍁💨 Living life on the edge of regret

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