I had a great time all weekend long, granted, a sleepless one, but fun nonetheless. But in the midst of my Sunday morning fun, I found myself missing him and not really into what I was doing. Gay, I know. But I don't really care.
It's been two months since I started hanging out with the new guy, and while I still feel bitter about the last time I got screwed over, I still plan on taking things slow this time.
Epiphany isn't the right word, but it's the first that comes to mind.
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