Thirty-one.

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We left that special place.
Closer than we have ever been.
Before.

And I don't know.
If I regretted it.
Or if she did.

And I was afraid to ask.

Now no matter what anyone said.
My chances were shot.
I couldn't go back now.

But that was ok.
Because maybe.
It was worth it.

Maybe.
I would get another.
Chance.

If only I could have a sign.

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