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Postcard From Me


I had a dream. I knew it was a dream because we were both happy. Together. We had a little house on the top of a college town. I had an assistant professorship. You had your dance studio. We made love every night. I loved my work. You loved yours. We loved each other. And we both loved him. He had your eyes and my hair. It was three against the world.

Then I woke up.

I'm a disgrace in my department and don't know what to do. You're gaining weight and losing faith every week. It's harder to breathe every time I wake up. I'm sorry, but I don't know why. I want to hate you, but that would just be easier. There is no easy. There is no dream. He's gone. And that's why we can't be together.

You can see by the address that I've left you. But don't kid yourself. I just beat you to it. It's not your fault. I just can't do it anymore. He's gone. I love you. But I hate myself. It's better this way.

Don't follow me.

Love always,


Story by:

Jeff Hill

submitted at 9:26pm

19 July 2011

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