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In the mornings i made myself breakfast by myself but as you crept into my life so did the thought of us dancing around the kitchen floor. Listening to music, while the bacon crisps, and the toaster pops. Do i really have to let you go?
I don’t understand how the story begins. Or maybe it doesn’t ‘begin’ maybe we pick up somewhere in the middle. Today, or maybe it was yesterday I realized that my life is almost over. However, I have yet to start living.