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VIII
Bullshit.
I punch the steering wheel and with one last glance let my eyes travel up her body and stop on her face for a millisecond. And then I drive the fuck away from her, every meter further from her reminding me of the mistake I'm doing with the way my heart beats with difficulty.
My throat itches to feel the burn of the alcohol, and I shake my head to get rid of the feeling.
I can't solve every fucking problem by drinking.
I don't want to go backI don't want to go backI don't w
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