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...was that.

Another six months had passed and here was Julian, in the rain. Six months. The length of the original relationship and he had not moved on. Every day he would wake and his first thought would be Amanda. A split second later the daily anxiety would return. He was in the midst of a nervous episode. Not because they had broken up, but because she had gotten under his skin. He spent six months thinking the same thoughts. Turning them over in his mind each day.

What he did wrong. What he should have said. When he should have said it.

He knew in the inner reaches of his psyche that there was nothing he could have done. He had just failed to admit that to himself yet. As he walked home he pondered when he would let himself rest. When he could breathe again and stop bombarding his mind with images of what might have been.

All he could hope was that time would make him forget. But when you have reached this far, hope is all you need.

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