the text

“Thanks for switching seats with me. I just can’t be around her anymore tonight. It’s just too hard.” Send.

Her phone buzzes. She picks it up, looks at the text.

…and my life is ending because that wasn’t supposed to go to her but she’s the one I always text and I just went on autopilot and I love her and she won’t understand that sometimes unrequited love makes it too painful to be around…

She looks at me. I look at the table.

[word count: 84]

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