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... screen like some alien hieroglyphic I'm supposed to decipher. My brain, still spinning from the nuclear bomb that just went off in my life, can't process something so mundane as a girl texting me. It's like getting a paper cut while your leg's being amputated, technically it's still pain, but the scale is so wildly different it's almost laughable.

My hands are still shaking on the steering wheel, but somehow, this absurdly awkward text message is like a splash of cold water, pulling me ...

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