There’s a moment—usually mid-hangover, face-down on the sofa, scrolling through blurry videos from the night before—when you think: I cannot keep doing this.
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There’s a moment—usually mid-hangover, face-down on the sofa, scrolling through blurry videos from the night before—when you think: I cannot keep doing this.
It’s one of the more subtle griefs we carry: the friendships that slipped through the cracks of busy lives, changing circumstances, and unspoken assumptions that the bond would always be there.
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