lbstanley70
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- Oct 16, 2011
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So I try not to think about her, and I work myself silly because the busier I am the less I am thinking and thinking is the last thing I want to do because when I think, I only see my faults and the things I could have done better and it casts me into a deep funk and then I dwell and despair. Drinking coats the pain, like a cheap store bought aid, but in the morning, as I lay there and look at the spot she used to occupy on times past, it just makes me realize how much I miss her and so the ritual begins anew.