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  • The reason for that fight, I do not remember. Which means it was quite pointless. Or silly. Or both.

    But the fight inflamed before either of us could think about it. And before I could bring back my own sanity, I'd taken the notepad off the wall. And a moment later, it was in tatters on the floor.

    It was something we bought together; to write sweet nothings. Every leaf of it was supposed to be a moment that we could go back to.

    And today she is no longer with me. And the notepad is held together by a cheap rubber band. I decide it is time I restored some of its worth.

    I stick it together. Leaf by leaf. And soon, it is back up on the wall. It is still badly put together. The edges jagged. No. It is no longer the same. Like nothing is, after a bad past.

    Bitter pasts are occasionally resolved. Never restored.

    I take the notepad back off the wall.
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