Excerpts From the Stories I'll Never Write

[25] Philophobia

“I love you,” he whispered. “You love me too, don’t you?” he looked at me, his eyes half-pleading.

Yes. I love you.

“No. I don’t love you.”

Pain came across his eyes.

“You don’t want us to be together?”

I want to be with you.

“No.”

“You were never mine. Were you?” tears fell from his dark brown eyes.

I was. I was yours. I want to be yours.

“Never.”

“Okay. Goodbye.”

Don’t leave.

“Goodbye.”

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