Day 21: Dear V,

Remember our words after our songs at the karaoke one February night? It was a sad yet comforting exchange. Your words were raindrops falling into my old rotten well of words. You didn’t cry. It wasn’t necessary. Your words bled for you.

Tables have been turned. Last year was my year, this year is yours. Mine has become the raindrops, yours has become the well.

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