I think on some days I begin to accept she’s not enough, and that I’ll never be enough. But then the haunting thought of having to relearn someone else fuels my fear of loneliness, and I return to her.

I’ll read a text full of implications, or she’ll forget to call, and I find myself wondering when I ever thought this was a lasting bond.

Yet I have a guilt conscience bigger than the state of Texas, and her honey dew words sort of draws my heart back into the same complications.

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