Miles, Miles, Miles, Miles
Miles, the giant "what if" in my life. What if we were more than friends? What if it's all in my imagination? All of it? What if I fucked it up? What if I'm the reason we're where we're at? What if it was me who couldn't make a decision?
I'm moving out. He's moving out sooner. What if I created this game of one-up-manship? What if by trying really hard to be only friends, it turns out we're barely even that?
But more importantly why does this, he, him, all of it bother me so much?
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