Almost holding hands

Extracts from a book I'll never publish. Just paragraphs in no specific order. Always a different love story.

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40. Lack of sleep.

I couldn't sleep, again. I swear I wasn't feeling so alone before I ever met you. And now, now look at me, I'm all broken and in pain. I guess that song's lyrics really spoke the truth. You know, most of the time, the person you'd take a bullet for is behind the trigger. 

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