Love, it’s not you.

” Do you have somebody else? ”

Honestly when those words escaped from his lips, I swear, I wanted to reach in the line that was connecting us and throttle the heck out of him. It’s not him. It’s not. Every time I thought of him, there would always be this burst of love but sometimes I felt that it was forced. As if it was something that I made up.

I had always been in mind of the fact that there are loves that are actually ideas. What if I am only loving the idea of loving him? It happened before. So it wouldn’t exactly be mind-blowing if it happen again.

 

AH.

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