She's wearing a sheer blue dress to work, wasting a good outfit on an ordinary day, incessantly trying to look good, for herself, probably for someone too... Thoughts crowd at past six in the morning and for reasons still hiding beneath the covers, it always hurts in the morning. Lost in a familiar room under the crack of dawn, she's even more confused than the days when it all felt wrong than right here, right now, when everything's falling into place. Too happy, that she needs to look back on what she's leaving behind. If there's still anything to go back to, if she even wants to go back. Walk to the closet, walk to the door, thinking again if it's too late, why does it feel like this, is there any way to stop this, does she even want to stop it. Slips feet in heels. It can't be stopped. Lipstick on, puts on mascara, bats eyelashes. She might as well choke on her own words now because it hurts. It hurts to hold on to someone who wants to let go, and it hurts more to shield yourself from loving someone else.
7:00. Time to go.
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