Maybe it's overdue, or perhaps it's in its expected season. Anyhow, here I am musing about a thought, a dream, a passing illusion.
The wounds are old now, yet the scars ever present. Days go by and I still experience the brief sting of reliving a memory of one once held dear.
And then last night prevailed a different dream.
A new person, a new face, and flutters in the belly all the same.
Infatuated? Perhaps. Charmed? Very.
Unrequited? I fear so.
Maybe this will lead to eventual disappointment, yet I can't help but feel this to be better than the melancholy of yesteryear. Alas, such dark times scarcely have comparisons.
Anyway, I might very well be somewhat enamoured once again, so uncanny yet so familiar...
I wonder if she feels the same.
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