Love.
I’m still waiting for the fairytale, and maybe that’s the problem. With every new guy, I kept thinking, Maybe this time it’ll be different. And the tricky thing is, I chose my best friend.
And the part that gets me? My life is still my life. Clearly this isn’t about love: I moved a thousand miles away from my life just to wake up in a different bed in a different apartment with my best friend to...my life. This is clearly my issue, and nothing to do with the love part.
(The love part is awfully nice, though.)
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