The Start of You, The End of Me. in Always Recovering, Never Recovered.

Revised: 10/24/2014 1:23 p.m.

  • April 6, 2010, 5 a.m.
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  • Public

I know the exact moment I met your eyes for the first time, sat alone mid-morning on the rough blue carpet of my student room, three hundred miles from the safety of home.

You came in uninvited, like a friend, like a good idea.

Your unreadable eyes were a challenge, and I like a challenge.

I wonder if you could, you said, so casual. Of course I could, I shrugged. I’m stubborn.

I did, it was easy.

I skipped all three meals, and you became a part of me long before I knew your name.


Last updated October 24, 2014


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