I keep thinking we’re going to give everything to each other at once. The last ten years of our lives, all ampersands squeezed into a ball behind our third ribs, but it doesn’t work like that. How can you pay for everything in ones? The one who made me lose my mind. The one who came too fast. The one who made me so, so sorry to leave. The only one who really understood despair and why everything might always be just a little bit sad.
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