♡༉ d.

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You always dedicated songs to others because you tried to convey the feelings you couldn't express – through the songs.

So when – during a beautiful winter evening – you dedicated me a song saying that the song had exactly those feelings you wanted to convey to me, I was very curious. Something was up with you and you had been acting weird the past few days. Maybe the song described what was up with you.

But when I put the song on, the beautiful evening slowly bled into a melancholic night, as I lay there on the bed, your song on repeat, trying furiously to prove myself wrong. Trying furiously to convince myself that what the song conveyed was not what you wanted to convey to me.

I texted you, wishing that you would tell me that it wasn't the song the one you wanted to give me.

But you said that it was the correct song. You said that you were complicated. You said that my feelings would gradually fade away. You asked if I needed some time away from you. You asked me to listen to the song and understand, because when you heard the song, all you could think about was me. Was us.

As I tried to lull myself to sleep to the monotonous sound of the fan blades whirring, I hoped that you would just catch up to me the next day, a grin on your face and tell me that it was all just a joke. A prank.

But the next day, another thing happened that lead to the first little crack on my glass heart.

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