Yes


Dead Poets Society was on
faded to white noise as the atmosphere around them was
silent, heavy.
A lone tear slid down her cheek as she tried to create
physical distance between them,
praying that her heart would cooperate,
fall in line,
correlate--
protecting it from what she couldn't resist herself.
Hoping he wouldn't be able to see it beating outside
of her chest.
He reached for her, pulled away--
manifesting the turmoil he was wrestling with.
"Do you love me?", he asked.
She lied.
Refrained from asking in return
afraid his answer would match her unspoken truth:
Yes.

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