“I had come to think of him as a library book, entering my life on rented time. Something that I could enjoy for a few hours, curled up and comfortable, devouring as much of him as possible before our time was up. And because he wasn’t mine, I couldn’t scribble in the margins or wrote my name on the spine; I couldn’t leave my mark on him in any discernible way.”
— Jan 23, 2023 02:55PM
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