Every moment we’re still here I think of you.
I think of all the times we had together.
And all the times we should have had together.
I think of all the things that used to make you laugh.
Things that now make me laugh.
And I cry.
I cry because you will not be here and tell me stories.
You will not be here to tell me you love me.
I cry because I know you’re gone.
And you won’t be coming back.
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Categories: flash fiction