"The truth is, you're torturing me. The burning ache in my chest is the same when I'm lying in bed alone as it is when I'm swallowing vodka in the backseat of a crowded car with the music blasting, and no matter where I am or who I'm with I can still feel the weight you left in my heart. And though I am usually quite the optimist, I know that it is going to be nearly impossible to lift myself up from this."
Excerpt from a book I will never write #1273
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Excerpt from a Book I will Never Write
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