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By the time I stop,
the page’s been mauled by emotion.
Ink smudged. Corners bent. A violent thing.
Ugly and perfect.
I stare at it, my chest tight.
It’sreal.
And only one person should read it.
My thumb finds Andrew’s name.
I type it all in, then read
and reread
andstare.
Stupid bluesendbubble stares back.
I go back and forth.
Don’t do it.
He’s not going to answer.
You’ll regret it.
I should let him forget me.
Yeah,I shouldn’t send it.
I should keep this to myself.
I should?—
I should?—
I hit send.
And freeze.
Fuck, Allison.
What the hell did you do?
But then?—
Relief.
Everything leaves me.
The noise fades.
The weightfloats away.