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The maddest I ever got at you was the night I came over and we listened to The White Songbook then got into a huge argument.

You walked me to my car in silence. We were both still angry. I sat in the car and cried for ten minutes after you went back inside. I drove the end of your street but came back, knocked on your door, intending to apologize. Instead we argued more and you told me I was tilting at windmills. So I threw my keys - not at you but near you - and was horrified when the pocket knife I had forgotten was on my keychain lodged into your front porch. I left completely humiliated and absolutely livid.

You asked me out two weeks later.

How on earth did I ever fool myself into thinking we were compatible?

Why do twenty year old girls feel like they need to fix people?

Walk away. Walk away.

1:19 a.m. - 2020-11-20

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