You were my longest love.

My truest, maybe.

I think you really cared for me.

I know I did for you.

We finished each others puzzles the pieces that were missing.

You needed to be needed.

I needed you to succeed.

But our story ended when vices got in between our love.

It consumed our every thought.

Our world no longer revolved around us.

Instead it spun fast around the idea we craved.

Fast love, fast money, fast life.

Faster and faster and faster.

Until it spun out of our control.

You were taken from me, so I left you.

Both our stories have grown apart.

But I still dream of you. Often it may seem.

What does that mean?

Do I want you? Or do I need love?

Im lonely, its true.

But I don’t think its you.

It’s the idea you created in me that love is really out there.

I did love you.

Another one that slipped through my fingers.


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