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I still remember every detail of his face. I remember the calm shade of blue in his eyes, the blonde hairs in his eyebrows, the soft white hairs on his earlobe. I still remember the way he would look at me, the way he would hold me and not want to let go. But it is I who has let go of him. It is I who has broken his heart, a heart that I now hope has been mended with the passing of time. I tried for so long to let him go, but each time I took a step away, I entered a place that was cold and lonely, a place where no one knew me, where no one could touch my heart the way that he could. So I held on. I held out my arm to keep him away, but close enough that I could still feel his presence, close enough that I would not feel alone.
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