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Fictober drabble #26

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My past loves were different. Each in his own way, neither Justin nor Mark ever let me doubt his passion from the moment he confessed it. They showed me daily, until they couldn’t.

With this man, though … a single metaphorical declaration, all those years ago now, and somehow I’m supposed to trust that his feelings are as real today as ever.

He isn’t free to remind me, because I’m not free to hear it. One might well wonder if it still exists, or ever did.

A scientist, however, understands these things. After all, one cannot see gravity. Only its effects.