Four. 

So maybe your first mistake was thinking that they could be your entire world, your entire universe. You let your soul enrapture theirs then letting them dangerously intertwine with one another. Every broken piece of your heart, every crevice of each fragment, you let them get filled. Filled with the way of how you felt when they smile and their little fine wrinkles creasing at the corner of their eyes, or how they reached out to interlace their fingers with yours in the cold night. Your second mistake was telling them how much you needed them, how your soul longed for something like this, how you can’t imagine long nights without them. Your third was falling too fast in the idea of thinking who they were, how each word they spoke you held ever so close to your heart and imagining every possible scenario you could with them. Your fourth mistake and possibly the worse was when they hurt you and you loved them even more. You looked past beyond their flaws and their mistakes and you continued loving them with each bruise and bone. You’re convinced with every scar they each had their own story and you empathise with every single one of them. You pour your own little pathetic heart out, hoping to gain more and more from them. But no baby you don’t, you just can’t. You can’t keep wishing on a star that isn’t bright. They look at you with their bored eyes; no glimmer no sparkle. You search for the galaxy and constellations in their eyes but you’re merely just a freckle. But it’s always easy to fall for an idea especially when they’ve got that smile that lights up your whole heart and that heartbeat that drums like your favourite song.

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