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And in the end, we had become lovers anchored by memories, stitched together with random bits and pieces. Two people who had run out of things to say, stilled by the emptiness of yesterdays and maybe tomorrows. Memories are always assembled within the framework of trying to explain what happened when you realize it all has just evaporated away. The words that seem so eloquent and truthful before vanish without explanation. The narrative we constructed filled up our coffee cups as we sat across from each other, desperate to scream out what needed to be said, but always willing to concede the moment to the other as we drifted further apart. We became two ancient warriors locked in a titanic battle, fighting through empty nights that stretched out forever, as the broken light of the morning found the crack in the window frame and the snow of another January piled up outside. Love remained a tricky proposition for us when compounded by elemental desires, uncontained and unrestrained. If we could have held on to those singular experiences, perhaps it all would have worked out in the end; so easy to speculate when the outcome is inevitable. But the light between us began to burn further away, transformed into a distant memory. Still, on occasion there remained some brilliant moments of passion, but inevitably swallowed up by a tidal wave of darkness that would engulf us. We sat and stared at our cold coffee, the swirling patterns formed, reformed as the milk settled, neither of us wanting to be the first to speak becoming like so many other mornings we had already let slip away; our love camouflaged with regret. And one day we understood that our tomorrows had become entrapped by the artificial boundaries of all the unclaimed yesterdays. The act of love was never going to be enough for us, we both wanted more than the other was willing to give. And in the end….
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