“no one knows me better than George. And I know him, too.
I clasped his hand while a doctor sewed eight tidy stitches into his side
when we were kids.
I sat with him as he sobbed on our apartment floor, holding him as
tightly as I could.
I was the person George called the night he thought he was going to die.
I have his name tattooed on my rib cage, just like mine is tattooed on
his.”
Okay? just be together
— Jul 09, 2026 07:42PM
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