When I put down my suitcase last night, a Dear John letter was already waiting for me.
I read it again, and again.
As time goes by, we can't do what we used to do for each other.
No choice but to end.
I broke down. You apologized. I tried to hide everything.
What a mess both mentally and physically.
As time goes by, the pain comes less. The emptiness comes often.
If times goes by, will things fall in the right place?
It should. It has to be.
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