
Bust 2

I think that by nature we gravitate to those who mirror our emotions. Those of us who are lost and grasping for comfort seem to be drawn to those also desperate for connection... Only to find our own condolences in the reassurance we give.
The future always finds us. It finds us without hesitation, effort or probable cause... Tormenting us relentlessly with small pokes and large prods. And there's no way to outrun it or ability to hide... Unless time chooses to take you... Or you decide to die.
Her mind is a labyrinth of what-ifs and have-nots. A self-inflicted maze which spirals... Twists... And constricts... Until finally cascading into what she craves and fears most.
The secrets we shared helped relieve us of our solitude... But then yours became mine, and mine became yours... And we could no longer remember whose was whose.
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