He was a traveler and I was stuck in one place.
The same place.
I could never leave.
But he had my heart and I had his and every time he came back it was like he’d never been away.
I could have lived like that.
I could have been happy like that.
Being away from him for long periods of time.
Had he come back when I needed him.
But he didn’t.
The world was his canvas and I was nothing more than his muse.
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