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September 8, 2017

Each bite of cake tastes better than the last. It has since you made it for me, since we made it for me. Every bite of cake reminds me of what was lost tonight. What has been found. What decisions are stupid. We are not getting married, but I wrote my vows. I keep asking questions, but you keep telling indifference.

I know you are afraid. "The night is dark and full of terrors". Winds howl. Just one release. Just one promise fulfilled. Was history too dark? Did the hue match the future too closely? Why must you chime at 9 am? I think our frolic years are past. Passed. I believe it is a time loop. A no way, not this day, never again frame of mind.

I think I can't choose to enjoy, but not on my own either. I can't and I can't and limbo beckons because where else can I find what is so terrifyingly ideal?

Except that one bit. The scary part. That hydraulic, compressed part that breaks us for its ambivalence. I don't like that part, it is a loss in every category.

Yet. And yet.
And never. 

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