Nothing

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I'm there. With him. 

Head on his chest. 

Arm slung over his stomach. 

I can hear his heartbeat, and I tell him so. 

I can feel your heartbeat. And I guess it's a good thing.

Why?

Because if I couldn't, it'd be because you're dead. 

He laughs. 

I don't. 

Because as we lay there, head on his chest, arm slung over his stomach. 

I can't feel anything. Not a single feeling. 

I feel nothing. 

And I wish that everything was different. I wish I was excited before every single kiss and I wish I missed him when he wasn't with me. 

But it's not like that. 

I don't miss him

And every single kiss is just yet another kiss. 

Two pair of lips meeting. 

Nothing more. 

Just that, nothing. 

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