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Every single moment until you were face to face with what would change not only your life but so many others will replay back in your head, and you will fight the inevitable guilt of being imperfect, and not being enough to stop things before they spun too far out of control.
Ronna admitted that she is jealous of him even if he’s totally straight; she’s worried that I’m going to become Manhattan-trendy and start shooting heroin. She said she’s been wanting to ask me if I’m in love with him. “I am, a little,” I told her.
I bought one last dose of heroin, obtained some valium, and vodka, then moved into a little one room apartment my uncle had in the mountains of North Carolina. Making sure, I had no way to contact anyone, or get to anyone.