I thought I liked you, but then I realized I'm in love with someone you're not; with an idea. Someone you might one day be. Someone you cannot see. Someone who -I believed- cannot be replaced. Someone I used as an excuse to dislike you. Just someone I cannot see in you or in me or in anyone. But then again, it's someone I only said I liked, because I wanted to get rid of you. Because really, who are you? And what is love? And why would you like me?
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