boysordeath's Diaryland Diary

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There was no room for missing with that much anger and hurt. Now that the anger has worn off I'm left with hurt, and that opens the door for missing.

So I toke up at night when the feeling creeps up on me and allow myself to miss him down to the smallest details of his smell and taste - which consequently is whiskey and cigarettes.

12:03 p.m. - 2008-12-14

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