Today I saw you’re the books your favorite author wrote. I still have all those books you gave me sitting in a pile under a small blue table that you helped me build one day when my parents weren’t home. I haven’t been able to open them, I know some of them have pressed flowers, others have the author’s signature from that time I took you to see her because I hoped it would make you crack a smile, but that was just a delusion. I could never make you smile, so when I see your pictures with your new girl I pray that she can make you happy the way I never could, because he makes me happy the way you never could.
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