The man I'm in love with exists only in my thoughts as an imagined perfect character, as the person who is utterly in love with me too and we get to swing slowly so warmly together in the most satisfying and best thing in the whole wide world that is us holding each other. Simple as that. And it's enough to numb the pain of deaths and dying.
Wouldn't it be nice?
But reality is much different.
Wednesday, 13 April 2022
Reality
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