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That feeling

of trying, but never really getting there.

Like with Consti. I spent all day reading and what do I get? The awful realization that I still have about, what, forty cases to go before our exam on Thursday. Like with sleep. I try to squeeze in as many possible minutes (minutes!) I can after classes but the body will always want more, of course it will. It's bound to reach its tipping point one of these days. Like with you. And the many things and people and tastes I try to put in your place but instead only end up making me realize how absent you are, how much these fries aren't as crunchy as those we tried doing, how much these people sound like you, how much they don't, how much they get me, how much they won't, how nothing will ever measure up to you, how it's not you, never you, no longer you.