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once a fanatic
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the morning after the alcohol is a slow one. watching those around you stir and groan as your brain quietly updates you on what your self did the_night_before. smiling and frowning in equal measure. swallowing
pride and vowing denial.
for me, i think it was the way that one of you, even in sleep, courteously turned away, whilst the other subconciously, lazily, stretched an arm across my body, pinning me down.
where do we go from here?
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050820
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