I shall wait for you. When you come back from the battle, no boots will stand at my door. The pillow beside mine will be empty, and my mouth unkissed. You will be able to say, “it was just as it was.”
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It ain’t me!
And I reiterate, with my last breath, that your mother will, your father might, and your new guy will try, but it won’t be me. It’ll never be me.
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