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You know those nights where the day has unfolded in such a way that now, in the night, you can feel all the gaps in your body and you can see all the reasons you’re not who you wish you were – you know those nights where the only sound is of you drinking and the people outside who have each other to drink with – those nights when you’re unable to think or be or do because of the paralyzing loneliness – it feels like a hundred of those nights – stitched together and squared – and they come to me in a blush.
