I want you to imagine sitting at this table, one holiday after the next. Coming to every fucking stupid dinner and birthday and BBQ because you want to see this person so badly, and it’s the only way you can. Because you fucked up one night years ago, and this is the only way you even get a window into their life now. An opportunity to see them, talk to them. At least know they’re happy even if you can’t be the reason for it. And while you sit there and eat at this table—your fucking turkey or hamburger or whatever festive fucking food the occasion requires, you have to watch them smiling at
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