All night she told me stories that she'd told me twice before but I didn't care because I'd forgotten them anyway and then there was an element to listening to stories that isn't usually there where I try to remember the end before she gets to it and with each new piece the picture is a bit more complete just like a jigsaw puzzle. She speaks in
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i like it.
i'm glad to hear you're doing well.
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i miss you.
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For most people, acknowledging akwardness defeats the purpose of its existence - which is to provide a buffer between one's fragile ego and real intimacy with another being.
My buffer is the size of a 16-wheeler. Hence, I tend to run over the buffer just as fast as I lay down the tracks.
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