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I'm getting used to you,
to your conversations like a melody,
to your laughter that lights up the day,
to your gaze, light on my path,
and that, you know, isn't good for me.
I'm getting used to you,
and I think of you every moment,
as if the world revolved around your embrace,
and that, without a doubt, isn't good for me.
I'm getting used to you,
like the river to the sea, not wanting to leave,
and even though my soul represses it,
a part of me has already surrendered,
and that, even though it hurts, is true:
I don't know how to live without you.