May 6th, Year 22

I crawl out of bed. I crawl into the bathtub, and gently scrub around bruised knees. I crawl back into bed, and say that I will only sleep an hour, maybe two. I crawl out of life, because I do not understand it. If there is a purpose to be accomplished collectively, then I say I was placed here on accident, and everyone will do well to keep me out of the master plan.

Matthew has moved on. I am happy for this, for him. Perhaps, he is happy, too. There are no secrets in the modern age. Every day, I see him smile next to another. I see him kiss another. They are a series of pictures burned into my mind. I turned my back on this, so the pain must be handled with dignity. I made choices, and I excused them. I was afraid, and could not identify it as such. And now I have lost him. A love affair that existed through words alone, too innocent to evolve. Hands never to clasp, lips never to lock. I felt like a child experiencing a love of sorts. An affection so sweet, it ruddied my cheeks. Off to the graveyard with you.

May 6th, Year 22

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