Love Lines.

I was falling in love with the wrinkles on your face.

Jealous of the laughs they have heard and the smiles they have felt.

I was jealous of the years that they knew.

How crazy – that I knew how much I loved you because of the wrinkles on your face!

They told your story and it was beautiful.

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Playback.

Rereading the words I had written, I whisper them into my coffee cup.

The recap is soft, intimate.

Like hearing someone else’s secret that’s been folded up in a note and forgotten in a box on the highest shelf of your closet.

I remember the pain, but somehow it doesn’t feel like my own.

I pause for a moment, wondering if this is even my story to tell.

 

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