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One More Day

The books I've been reading have dealt with opportunity cost. I hate feeling like you're the toll I hastily paid to cross a bridge just to stand on a distant shore and strain to guess at your outline. Longing has a way of filling my doubts up with air. I can almost float across the divide. I just don't know if your arms would be open to catch me or crossed in some aloof gesture you haven't decided on yet.

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