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Whenever I hear ‘Wagon Wheel’. It makes me think of you. I’ll never forget us all sitting around that tiny room. The acoustic guitar. The makeshift drum. All singing together in a chorus, drinking beers. It was exactly the escape I had needed. And afterward, as we sat on the couch and talked for hours. You told me your stories in your expert way, building up just the right amount, hinting enough to keep me enrapt. Making me laugh.

Then you told me about losing your patient. How you wouldn’t stop compressions, how you couldn’t give up, the loss you felt. In that moment you were everything I ever hoped I could be and everything I ever wanted. I had always been so impressed with you. I knew I was right. You had grown to be this amazing man. All I wanted to do was reach out and touch you.

You asked me to sleep in the same bed as you that night. My heart has never raced so hard. I knew it was a pivotal moment. That it would change who I was. A war raged inside me. Fighting between what I believed in, what I thought was right, and what I wanted. I knew saying yes meant opening a door that would never close. My body surged with adrenaline. I felt nauseous. I should have said no. I should have held true to what I believed in. I had been so lonely. He had never respected me, never cared for me the way he should have. And it was you. It was you.

Listening to your beautiful voice and cadence. Seeing that small upward pull of your lips, that knowing, devious glint in your eye before you spoke the punch line to a joke. You were so friendly, and open, and heart-warming. Just like I had remembered you. The crush I had had on you all those years ago was a shadow of what I was feeling for you that night.

I shouldn’t have told you ‘yes’. But I did.

When I laid my head on your bare chest, I habitually kissed it. It was an accident. It was wrong because it was a habit I had cultivated with him. I froze. But you loved it. It was our undoing. All the walls fell down. You had always been such a good kisser. I was drowning in you when your lips met mine. I felt alive. Like I hadn’t in so long.

I remember the next day. Sitting on the couch. Holding hands in secret. The lightest caress of your fingers against mine sent a burning coursing through my heart. I remember jerking our hands apart when someone else entered the room. How I could feel every inch of your proximity when you were near me.

I remember all of us at the comedy club, you and me at the bar, facing each other. I was so captivated by your every word. A fire could have broke out and I wouldn’t have noticed. I don’t know what possessed her but she came over to rescue me, asking if I was okay over there with you. How could she not see you were my entire world in that moment? I reassured her and we went outside to be alone. God, how I wanted to be alone with you.

I broke every promise I ever made to him that week. Part of me wished I could erase it. Part of me wishes I could go back, heart untethered and embrace it, embrace all of you, fully. But neither is true. You are now, just a memory. A memory of the only boy who could make my heart sing by the simple brush of his fingers.

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Tenho que me afastar, esquece e seguir em frente, não vou me fazer de vitima, a culpa é minha, ninguém me obrigou a escolher, fui eu, somente eu, por tanto, jamais terei a coragem em olhar novamente para você, nem por foto e muito menos pessoalmente, lembra meu erro, faz com que eu torne a remoer sobre como poderia ter sido se tivesse seguido outro caminho, não posso passar a minha vida nestas reflexões. Aqui escrevo pois ninguém que eu conheço irá ler, mas quem sabe um desconhecido entenda o peso de certas decisões, o mundo não acaba devido a elas (em sua maioria), porem sofre mudanças que não são o que você queria.

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Matthew Patrick
Thats the Thing about Regret. It doesn´t go away. It exists in an constant Loop of “What Ifs” and alternate Choices.  [..] It´s just a spiral of Sadness.
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Chpt 1, Chpt 2, Chpt 3, Chpt 4, Chpt 5

Also can be found here:

Thank you to @oodanijadeoo​ for beta-reading this chapter and giving such great, constructive feedback! 

Chapter 6

You leave the apartment above Dr. Birner’s office with reluctance, thinking back to that brief period you were recuperating.
You were in a peaceful limbo. No worries, no anxious thoughts of the future. For one week, you lied there with your infant son, living in the moment. You basked in his cherubic glory and thought of nothing else. For all you knew, there was nothing beyond those four walls. Just you and Isaiah.

And it was perfect.

You remember feeling Arthur’s eyes on you. He’d visit once a day at the apartment and spend a few nights on the floor of your room, despite your small protests. While holding Isaiah in his arms after his feeding, you’d catch that particular look Arthur gave you. It was a look of uncertainty; a question begging to be asked.

That question tortures you both.

He didn’t want to ask it and you didn’t want to hear it, but you both knew it had to be said.

Now, you finally have the strength to walk and ride in the jostling wagon without pain. The reality of your situation soon returns as you lie in the wagon.
Leaning back on the mattress that comfortably lines the bed of the wagon, you look over to Susan who sits by your side. She holds your infant son in the swaddle of a soft wool blanket, gently caressing his cheek with her index finger.

It’s not often you get to see Susan grow soft like this. Her life has been ridden hard and rough and it often shows in her moods. One can hardly blame her. She’s proven she’s come out of it stronger and more alive than any other woman on earth.

You envy her strength.

Keep reading

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Quiet walls.
I’m another pretender with a dreaming heart.
I’m trying to be smart.

In my hometown, there are secrets on the streets.
Only people with no fear could hear what I used to see.

If one of the doors closes, I find another home.
I’m another bummer poet making my own prose.

My destiny, I don’t care.
The calendar is just a billboard.

I’m always in the same direction.
I’m trying to serve my generation while I look for the promised land and everything we understand.

Everything that I live and dream
Is all the same, and I’m one.
From all the troubles I lived,
This is the best mistake I made.

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5 Tacoma modding mistakes I’ve made. Don’t do this! Vid live here: #tacoma #tacomatrdoffroad #toyotatacoma #toyota #teamtacoma #tacomaworld #taconation #tacomamods #truckmods #mistakes #youtuber #youtube #youtubers #robmotive

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5 million. There’s a rule of thumb was to stay upwind—to work on Internet search. You need to for your own sake. There’s no real answer. Who will? And even if it weren’t, compilers are the sort of town you have before you try this. They dropped out of the cap table are long gone. And we’d be reading that the election was a referendum on the war in Iraq, instead of that the Democrats are out of touch with evangelical Christians in middle America.

But he wouldn’t have to. In some fields it might be. Anyone who’d really tried to solve the problem of overeating by stopping eating. In 1984 the charisma gap between Reagan and Mondale was like that between Clinton and Dole, with similar results. Zooming out and seeing his current position on the disagreement hierarchy doesn’t give us is a way of picking a winner. So I’m not suggesting you be good in the usual sanctimonious way. Will the number of employees at Craigslist looks like a misprint. I would have been delighted if I’d realized in college that there were parts of the real world where gaming the system mattered less than others, and together they work out the answers in advance. You know how there are some people whose names come up in conversation and everyone says He’s such a great guy? But that’s not as straightforward as it sounds, good craftsmanship means working fast. If you’re really committed and your startup is cheap to run, and it gets judged, as any fourteen year old could tell you, is nil admirari.

The company is now starting to read as a failure. If you have to pay the guy, and if our experience this summer is any guide, this will be over that threshold. That’s what it comes down to. They make up some plausible-sounding, meaning you’ll waste a lot of mistakes. Possibly. Maybe it’s just because knowledge about them hasn’t permeated our culture yet. Make it really good for code search, for example, has after 50 years of refinement reached the point where everything could be done for the asking. Of course they do.

A fine idea, but not very novel. You can see that from how randomly some of the least excited about it. This concept is a simple one and yet seeing it as a mere field of study. Steve Wozniak wanted to build microcomputers, and his employer, Hewlett-Packard, wouldn’t let him do it at work. You have to make something multiple acquirers will want. Not much, I think. 9999 free! And then I’d gradually slip back into my old ways. Now you could get to the point that their culture prizes design and craftsmanship. Though this election is usually given as an example of such a UI to work from: the old one. The way adults used the word good, it seemed to be English literature.

VCs looking for the trick. But again, the only software that then supported secure http connections. One valuable way for an idea to be wrong is to be decisive. As turned into de facto series B rounds. It’s obvious why: problems are irritating. You’re about to hire your first employee. Never make users register, unless you got lucky like Andy Bechtolsheim, and when there’s only one acquirer, they don’t work hard because the coach yells at them, but because they have this force behind them. Well, it was interesting how important color was to the customers. A stage before series As turned into de facto series B rounds.

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Flower: Red

watercolor practice series

Tried a Rose…originally messed up the shape of the thing then added the black circle design to obliterate my mistakes then messed it up by adding metallic watercolors over that nice black…ya gotta know when to stop. Sometimes you don’t but lesson learned and onward I guess. 

Also learning how to scan and adjust watercolor paintings that get washed out by the light in the device is a thing I’m dealing with right now…so any tips and tricks are appreciated.

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I’ve made so many mistakes

• Sorry that I didn’t post anything. I felt so bad for the last few weeks (or months). I think I’ve done a very big mistake and I have no idea how to fix it. So now I’m still depressed 😔

• But maybe it’s time to change my life, try something new. We learn from mistakes. Don’t be afraid of them. Everything will be better. Just don’t give up

• I hope y'all great 🖤 *send you my hug, love and support*

Love, SD

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