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Location: Houston, TX

Thinking Out Loud

As the seasons change, so do the feelings I have for you. The bond that once brought us closer than ever has started to disintegrate, just like the battered fallen leaves fall victim to fierce winds. The smallest gust of mistrust blows our almost relationship away into nothingness.

Souls as kindred as ours were never meant to be together. Souls like ours were meant to intertwine for a brief moment in time and never cross paths again. In our fleeting time together we pushed each other to be better people, to be better creatives. It was a breathtaking whirlwind that neither of us will forget. After all, a romance like that shakes you to your core. But my unwillingness to let you in seems to have taken its toll. After trying to break my seemingly impenetrable wall over and over again, like a bad case of deja vu, I saw you break just like the rest of them. And as the summer changes to autumn I can feel your once comforting presence fade away like the oppressive heat.

In many ways the absence of your presence is what I will miss most. There was always something comforting in knowing that I could always contact you in my hour of need. There was something about the way your steady familiar voice would quiet my fears. I'll miss the warmth and wisdom behind your eyes, miss listening to the carefully chosen words you spoke, miss the way we'd dream about the future while we lay in bed. A future we once believed was attainable for people like us. I could tell I was losing you. It was effortless. And in the blink of an eye the snow stared to fall and the magic was gone.

I know these feelings will subside eventually. Our souls were on two different paths and I hope that one day our worlds collide. Sometimes, no matter how hard we try, good things come to an end. And as we said goodbye to one another, outside in the freezing cold, we couldn’t help but linger for a moment after our final embrace. We gazed into one another's eyes knowing this would be the last time. Searching for something. Searching for anything. Speaking the silent language only lovers turned to friends can possibly understand.

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