My first, my last, my only.
So cliché, but it’s true.
The first person,
I gave my secrets to.
The last one who broke my heart.
The only person to know the real me. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.
Because you made me see the real me.
The me, that I could be without you.
The strong me, that didn’t have to rely on your pretty words.
The beautiful me, that could give myself butterflies.
The only me.
Happy Valentine’s Day.

Life is to be happy.
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Reblogged this on The Reluctant Poet.
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