I long to be held. Lifted. To be playfully scooped up, hoisted upon his shoulders and dance through the kitchen. To snuggle in beside her as she reads the same story over again, as I mouth along the words. To play those silly games that had no logic or meaning but just because they were fun. I remember fun. Laughter. But it's no longer possible. Not that I deserve it anyway. It's because of me they can no longer smile. I'm the reason they can only look at one another through tear-filled eyes. It's my fault. Because I couldn't stay.
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"Classic"
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