Do you remember the time we dragged our drunk friend back to her room together, a dead weight on my shoulder when she fell asleep standing up? And how you began to tell me something meaningful as I sat on the edge of the bathtub and scraped back her hair as you leant against the doorframe, brought to a stop for once by your slow and wrong words, and a knock on the door? Probably not, but last night I remembered again and wondered what you might have said.
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