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  • Until it was finally over,
    there always was a next time.
    Waiting. Gaining. Building. Waxing. Waning
    As sure as the next full moon.
    Each time had shades of the last
    like a shadow eerily cast on the future.
    Predictable feeling in the pit of my stomach, but then again not.
    So the feeling in the pit of my stomach played a guessing game.
    Hope and fear were the heads or tails
    on the gambling table of my life
    until it was finally over.
    No more next times.
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