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It’s the little moments that will make me miss you. From how our bodies intertwined when we were recounting past horrors, to how your arms held me when I was sad. It’s the little things –  like sitting on your lap and feeling your embrace, or exchanging smiles when we see someone we hate. It’s the days we cried together, the days we got drunk together, and – most of all – the days we laughed together. I’ll miss the comfort of having you five minutes away from home, even though we barely see each other. It’s the little moments that I’ll never forget; the sound of your voice (especially your laugh), the endless bullying and ‘mean spirited’ jokes, and the arguments that never end in satisfaction. I’ll miss the familiarity and the love that we feel for each other. From first kisses under the night sky, chats with my beautiful boy, or catching up with old friends. I may have every line of your face memorised and every piece of dialogue tattooed in my mind, but I’m scared to let you go because I know that no one else will ever make me feel like this. So I keep these memories behind closed doors, locked away and kept safe in the depths of my mind. I exist in these memories, living in them everyday; frozen by time, right where you left me.

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Giovanni groggily sat up in his wheelchair. He had fallen asleep again. He gripped the inner wheel as he pushed himself along the sterile hallways. The hallways were so familiar they appeared even in


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