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Half of me and half of you to combine and make the perfect us. The perfect we. The perfect our.
Half of you to take out the trash.
Half of me to wash the dishes.
Half of you to inject me with unknown realms.
Half of me to engulf you with softened flames.
Half of me and half you. Half.
Supposedly. Supposed to be.
But it’s me.
All me.
Solo dates. Solo movies. Solo rides. Solo sessions. Solo dinners.
I am alone.
Even amidst 200 pounds of divine chocolate, I am alone.
Half alive. Half in love.
Half of who I should be.