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They say your life flashes before your eyes right before you die, but that’s not how it happened for me. Instead, as the streetlights spun around me, I saw the things that would never be, the moments I wanted to live more than anything else. The first and last time I wept was at the funeral, but this new devastation pulverized me. I was pinned beneath the ache, the agony, the loathing. They were a fifty-five gallon drum crushing my chest. I hadn’t been man enough to risk one thing, so now I would lose everything.
There was no denying it. I was too far gone.
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