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he wouldn’t meet her eyes
when he told her that he met someone,
suggesting they take a break to figure themselves out.
“but I love you,” she said over the lump in her throat,
eyes burning with unshed tears.
“there’s nothing for me to figure out.”
It was mid-October and I was laying outside under the large oak tree reading a novel. The tree’s branches swayed in the wind, arms moving as if they were protecting the leaves and everything surrounding it. As I was flipping the pages, I shifted my weight under the crunch of the dead leaves.