Wrapped up in a situation that all at once begs to be done and undone, calling on you to make the very best of a bad situation, turning the darkest moments into the brightest hours. But it is not real. It is “fauxed” out, draped in dressing gowns of exquisite fabrics of every imaginable hue. When you look and see how beautiful it is you become distracted by the turn of a word onto it’s head. Of course that is what he meant which is precisely why he didn’t say it to you. But instead to her, in whispers and hushed tones and plush sheets and deepest conversation. Today, that is not yours. Tomorrow will be the same. The affection that they can see, the confessions that they can hear will not be gifted to you. Dim lights, dark corners, late nights, early disappearances – that is your gift. That is what occupies your little blue box. The words are right and the passion unmatched. But when the family is gathered, the friends are near, the children are playing and there is no sweet whisper in your ear ….. where is your happy ending?
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