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After a few months of make-believe,
several erratic days,
hours of missed sleep,
minutes of breathtaking encounters,
seconds of loving,
I choose to move on.

I recall telling you
that time does not exist,
that time is not real.

How strange—
right now, I yearn to go back
and revive the time
we’ve profusely wasted
and stolen from each other’s arms.

Then again, I recall
our first time;
when you told me—
It was all well worth it.

Yes, it was all well worth it.