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sitting on the bed reading our tarot. talking to his brother about crazy customers. giggling with his mom about childhood stories. walking the streets at three am. curling up together on a warm couch in a cold room. sleeping on the subway. chain smoking expensive cigarettes. brushing his hair.
the little angry voice inside me is saying this won't last, and i know it won't. at least not this trip, no, it has a definite end date. but for the first time in as long as i can remember i can tell that stupid pessimistic demon to just shut up and let me live my life in the moment.