I'm trying to get up but I can't move a muscle because your frigid words are echoing in my head so loudly I can't hear myself think and I'm remembering our special trip to Brown County when I was in the fourth grade and I felt like I was on top of the world which is funny because now I'm lying on my bedroom floor trying to get up and I'm struggling to breathe and I just need to stop. And take a deep breath.
Grow up or get out.
This must be what good-bye feels like.
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