Maybe in another life I was a man and she was a woman.
Maybe in another life I was a woman and she was a man.
In another life, we had a beautiful, horrible, loving, lonesome relationship.
We fought and laughed and told everyone around us that we had never felt like that for anyone before.
I bought her flowers or maybe she bought me flowers. I opened the car door for her or maybe she opened the car door for me. I fought her on paying the bill or maybe she fought me on that. Or maybe we split the bill.
I loved her as much as I do in this lifetime. We talked all the time exactly like we did in this lifetime. I cried over her as much as I do in this lifetime. She was still my first love.
In another lifetime she still leaves me. She still lies to me. She still lies about me. She still loves someone else more than me. She still doesn’t fight for me.
In another life she is still a horrible person.
But the betrayal hurts a little less in that lifetime because we weren’t two women.
We were a man and a woman. In this lifetime she didn’t leave me because I cheated, or I didn’t give her enough attention, or because she found someone better. She only got away because of the simple fact that we were two women.
Despite all the love and happiness and laughter in our relationship, it wasn’t enough. It would’ve never been enough unless I was a man and she was a man or she was a man and I was a woman.
In the other lifetime, we still don’t end up together, but our ending is better.
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