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Your Favorite Color Is...

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I don't want to unlearn your favorite color and have someone new learn mine. I don't want to explain that it's red but not just any red—like you know the kind of red that looks good on shirt but not on walls. I don't want someone to look at me like I'm crazy when you would know exactly what I mean.

I don't want to retell old stories, the ones you knew, and how sometimes I talk in my sleep. I don't wanna turn my history into resume for someone new, hoping they'll find the little quirks charming instead of strange.

The Weight of Small Things

I don't wanna laugh at someone else's jokes and wonder if you think they're funny, or catch myself reaching for a hand that stopped reaching back a long time ago. I don't wanna hear a song we loved and have it belong to someone else—I want it to always be ours, even if we're not.

What We Can't Rewrite

I don't want to rewrite memories with someone else's. I don't want to let go like shoes that just stop fitting, because I still fit in us even if you've already outgrown me.

The Heart of It

I don't want to unlearn your favorite color and certainly don't want to unlove you.