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I’m trying not to think about you, but it’s not really working.

It wasn’t to supposed to hurt this much, was it? It was supposed to come like a fire and my cold skin would warm from it. I wasn’t supposed to be covered in gasoline. I wasn’t supposed to burn with it.

Your laugh was the music I would have in my head all day long, and your lips would be lingering on the skin they touched. The roughness, the softness, the dryness of your skin would leave tingles on mine long after you stopped touching me. But the thing was – it was supposed to be slow and sweet and – soft, so soft.

But your eyes rattled my bones and your fierce heartbeat got mine racing. It felt so good, like a cool swim in the heat of summer only, I didn’t realize I was drowning.

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