He’s here.

And?
Does it really have any bearing on my life?
Does it have none whatsoever?
I don’t know. 
But I know he’s here. 
I had started to think it wasn’t happening. 
Wishful thinking. 
The timing is funny. 
The timing was always wrong. 
I’m leaving. 
I’m done here. 
It doesn’t fit me. 
I need different things now
so I’m leaving. 
I think.
And he just got here. 
I’ve been writing. 
And play-listing. 
A lot like when we collided. 
I wonder if I’ll see him. 
I wonder what that would be like.
I think I’d be ok with never seeing him. 
But I’ve been thinking about us. 
This felt like that but more.
What is that feeling?
Our memories look different from here.
Time is funny.
He remembers things that I don’t.
There’s a lot there.
We shared a lot.
I share a lot.
Too much?
Depends who you ask.
I wish I didn’t know
he’s here.

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