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I wrote this a couple of weeks ago in a sorry for myself state and, evidently, as a writer I often over-emphasize so enjoy:

And it was almost symbolic,

It seemed that with every drop the rain matched my tears,

Except now I was crying harder, the water collecting faster, the river flowing quicker, my body becoming more numb.

It seemed that every short breath between each sob mimicked that so cruelly stolen by a kiss before.

It seemed every object was branded with the image of him laughing, loving, loving me.

Something i wish i had treasured before.

It seems that everywhere i look, couples walk side by side, when my own footprints are but single in the sand.

It seems that every leaf that falls is torn, yellowed, browned, a mere shell of what it once was.

And it was almost symbollic.

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