"Mom won't like it if you cry, and Dad would get worried, and I wouldn't like that," I hear myself say. Nidhi doesn't reply. She just dashes out of the room, and I can see she's still crying. It doesn’t sit right with me, but there are some words I don't say, even though I know they're true… even I won’t like it, so please don’t cry. I don't like it when a girl cries because of me. It reminds me of her, of course. We're not together anymore, but it reminds me of the author of those beautifully crafted poems.
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