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Save my seat.

The last day I saw you, the city was our view. We met down in a little coffee house, and you came later than promised. You always managed to do that.

We brushed the rain off of our coat sleeves and talked it over. We were supposed to figure out what went wrong and make sure we wouldn't lose contact. I guess you had other things in your past to account for, and other things to move on to. Maybe it was just time to let things go.

Nothing was solved and we didn't feel better before you stood up saying you had to "hit the road". We exchanged an awkward hug, a melancholy goodbye, ready to take the journey to new paths in life. Separate paths.

And we left in opposite directions. I realized it would be the last time I saw you, and I didn't let that hurt me. I let the rain claim you away from me, and the city was our story.

We know the end always comes.

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