[you know it's not just you]
[3:54 p.m.] - [2018-01-25]

He includes you in a tertiary way, but whispers to you independently about how he'd like you to share your thoughts on his work. It still feels impersonal, though, so you pretend you're not pouring over every detail of it.

Four pieces later, he subtly slips in an inside joke--it seems to speak to you directly. Something you shared; warped enough that no one but you would pick up on it. And for a moment you feel special. Maybe you're his muse. Maybe all his pieces of been about you.

This flight of fancy dies quickly. The warmth that tickled your belly becomes irritable. Scratching. You wonder who else he has slipped into his creations. Who else has he whispers to.

You know it's not just you.

[never again] - [once more]

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