Mostly I wish well for you...
Except when I pray that your relationship crumbles. When I hope and squint and fantasize about how you would actually love me...
You would smell the place where my neck and shoulder meet, and I would shiver. You would trace a finger up the side of my arm, just enough to give me goosebumps...
And when you slept I could hear the cadence of your breathing pattern, and sigh and love you.
But what is love without sacrifice? Because if it exists I have not encountered it.
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