Dear Wigleaf:

It's been awhile since we talked. I moved a few times, found a few grays in my hair. I'd like to think you'd still recognize me. I am more the same than changed. I think you are, too. Meet me for a drink at that bar down the street. You know the one. I won't say the name. I don't want to make small talk with acquaintances. We have history. We have things to say.

Until then,

LB




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Read LB's story.







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