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Journal: don't forget the choking from Pauleen Vernon's blog

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Hope is a finicky thing. It's something longed for, and so easily stolen. Another drink, he insisted. For almost twenty-four hours, part of me lingered on the offered drink and his insistence, romanticizing what that drink might be like while knowing full well I would be disappointed. I found him in the same tavern, occupied the same bar where we had met, and I watched him drown. Drunk by the time I got there with one woman wanting to shoot him down and another insistent on aiding him. It wasn't that I had developed some silly notion that a one-night stand might actually blossom into anything. It was his audacity to give me hope. Lesson learned.





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By Pauleen Vernon
Added Dec 4

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