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I didn't keep a journal back then, so it's not easy for me to look through my memories and pull out the details. I just have to go off how I remember feeling when I was with those people. But every once in a while, I find a small entry somewhere. Scribbled in a sketchbook or mentioned in passing as I wrote an essay. Pieces of the past I had just almost forgotten. And I get to read their words back to me. And all I can think is, 'ouch.'
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