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Of all the things I missed about having Kit as my best friend, this might be the biggest. The forever yes, and of our conversations, every thought a continuation of the last, every random inconsequential detail of our lives dominoing into one another.
It crushes me then, slams into me and pulls me down: I want him. I still want him.
It’s not just that I want him. It’s that he taught me what wanting was. Anyone would have a weakness for that.
I love him. I don’t want to, but I do.

