When the Last Word Becomes Unnecessary

It’s no longer a comfort. Closure is our own making.

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My need for the last word was not steeped in power or control but more the need to understand and be understood. Those needs frequently required being granted an audience to be heard.

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I had words. I had a lot of words. I don’t buy that in the span of 72 hours a guy lost his job and acquired a brand new one and was now two states over. That’s some bullshit. I can’t even remove my clothes from the dryer in 72 hours. Let’s be real.

Flaming pinball, nerd, music lover, wine snob, horrible violin player. No, I won’t stop taking pictures of my drinks. vanessaltorre@gmail.com IG: vanessaltorre

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