The Little Pieces

Those sweet nothings the broken hearted always hate on are under rated. No, we are not simply in love with the sweet words said, but they are a salve on a tired heart after a long day; they are the water at the end of a dessert. They are not nothings, as they are often called, but rather the small pieces of glue that hold this precarious relationship between two imperfects together. I am forever grateful for the sweet nothings whispered in my ear every night, even if it is over the phone and he is there and I am here.

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