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Ships passing in the night

On Friday nights when I'm alone, I start to feel a lonely nostalgia creep over me. I start thinking about all the people who have passed through my life, and I wonder what they're doing right now. I wonder if they ever think about me in a similar fashion.

I came here tonight because it offers me some connection to the past, a safe way to revisit a treacherous landscape. But now that I'm here, I don't really have anything significant to say.