WednesdayΒ 

We were only meant to last for a moment.

We both knew we wouldn’t last for years like we spoke about drunkenly on my roof. 

There would be no house with an expensive oven, the kind that would cook pizza evenly. 

There would be no abundance of dogs. 

There would be no you and me in a rented apartment, watching the other sleep hoping neither of us choke on our own vomit. 

No late night text messages, no early morning coffee runs. 

No college breaks or laying in the sun. 

There was just you, me and a clock waiting to hit 90. 

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