I don’t think she liked me much when she first saw me.
How could she?
I wasn’t a very nice person then.
But I did my best to convince her I was someone else.
That I was something else.
That I was a person who actually cared.
Not just one of those people who would throw her out when I got bored.
It seems to have worked.
In the end, she began liking me.
She cared about me.
She loved me.
And I loved her.
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Categories: flash fiction