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Meant to Be

Her eyes opened.

To see her look at it, one would have thought the ceiling was perfection.

Her eyes were unfocused, though,

not seeing the ceiling.

Seeing the past.

She seemed to realize I was watching her,

rolled over

(pulling her blanket with her)

to look at me.

She smiled,

kissed me on the cheek,

murmered three words.

 

Meant to be.

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