i wouldn't trade what i've got, not for anything.

last night i went through your notebook. it's mine, it's just that everything in there is somehow related to you.

i was just sitting & reading & thinking. i even brought out the cummings.

& i just kept remembering the time you thought you were going to die.

you thought you were going to die, & you didn't care. not about anything.

i still hate you for that.

but most days, i just miss laughing with you. no one gets me like you do.

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[I believe in a thing called love]