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Reality.

In my dreams, I’d pack up my things, open the door and he’d drop to his knees.

I’d try to push past him and he’d scream.

Telling me it’s not what it seems, and maybe promise me everything… Possibly beside a diamond ring.

Maybe he’d cut his seams and I’d see that he bleeds sincerity.

Or maybe he’d crumble into a million roses and fall at my feet like I’m his queen. Id forgive him and love him like a king.

A royal love theme.

Golden crowned silver linings.

Having such incredibly depressing fantasies of breakups and makeups interweaved…

because I knew when I’d decide to walk away,

he’d sit there and watch me leave.