Exist.

I wish you didn’t exist. Not in my world, anyways. Like some sort of disease you’ve seeped into my bones and refuse to leave. And not a day goes by that I don’t think of you. It’s more than that…I feel you. And before today I hadn’t even seen you in over a month. I wish I’d never met you. You’re the farthest thing from what I need, but I want you, and you don’t want me back.

And that eats at me. And I am not used to this. And I don’t know how to feel.

And you’re bringing me my book back tomorrow. Maybe. And truthfully, I don’t want you in my apartment. My new apartment with all my things. I fear you might seep into everything and I’ll never be free of your existence.

But I’ll invite you in anyways.

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