A Story Too Short

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I find it beautiful, and in despair, I found comfort in your arms that night, mid-February in 2019. I first met you, and I can still remember how handsome you look in those long blue sleeves and your little messy hair. You showed me your favorite book and told me you loved history a lot, and I just smiled, trying to kill the awkwardness and silence between us. I was also reminded of how you tucked my hair in my ear; the way you touched my face lit up some spark in me, and as we looked into each other's eyes, I was willing to commit a grave sin. Your hug felt so warm in that cold room, and in the morning we parted ways—our first and last encounter. and only if I knew that was the last time I would see you. I wish I'd hugged you one more time so your scent would stay with me a little longer. But I didn't look back as I crossed the street, as if I already knew I'd never see you again.

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