The truth? Well the truth is that I’m terribly, horribly in love with you. And even when you’re not around, you are around because you’re here in the sheets and on my skin and in my hair and deep in the middle of my body—in that place where I let things in but never let them out, so that I can hold onto them forever. That’s what love is anyway, because one day you may be gone, but I’ll still have traces of you somewhere inside me to remember you by.
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