Once, he told me I was his best friend. But I didn’t know what to say to that. 

Mid-way, something happened. I thought he was the one. We both probably did. Did. Probably. 

In the end, I stopped him from saying it. Say the words that could’ve made it all right. Made it OK.


Because OK was already too late. 


Dear you, 

We’re both idiots, aren’t we? 


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Misty Angel

Whispers in the woods

Field of Thoughts

I hereby sow my thoughts and interests here.


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