Her Friends Have Begun to Worry

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By Anonymous

She speaks of Tinder dates. Blackouts. Vague feelings of shame and regret, shards of memories, bruises of unknown origin. What she doesn’t mention is the ache – at once heavy and empty – burning, burning. Surely no one could ever love her again.

Tonight another stranger across a table raises his glass, “In vino veritas.”

Clink.

           
Anonymous writes to be heard.

6 thoughts on “Her Friends Have Begun to Worry

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