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I fell through a crack. I had been walking carefree with my mind in a jumble and I paid the price of ignorance. A sidewalk is safe, right? They are built for pedestrians to wander safely without fear of being beat down by a vehicle, but there are more things to fear than a simple automobile. We walk, chasing pavements often never taking notice to what we step on. Sure some of us believe those superstitions about lines and cracks in the cement, but have you ever felt the effects of falling through a crack? I hope you never have, but I bet most of you know exactly what I'm referring to. A feigned sense of safety is better than none at all, just as we would rather believe a monster in disguise than facing the truth it hides.
I believed him; I fell for a line and through a crack.
I hear the words he used to whisper ringing through my head, I feel the embrace he used to give me when I fell to tears, and I still want to believe he cared for me like I did all those nights before. I would ask if it were all just a fa?ade, but I don't care for an answer like that. It's pointless to be mad at him when I allowed myself to be played. I should have watched where I stepped and not let my head get too high in the clouds. The sidewalk was hazy from being up so high, but the crash from falling was all too realistic for my taste. I once fell through a crack, but that will never happen again.
I know which sidewalks I deserve to walk on, so I'll never wander down his street again.
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