"I miss her touch," he said.
They had recently broken up. Or she had with him. He had started the conversation and she had ended it. He had asked if something was wrong and she had ended the whole thing.
"It was like electricity," he continued.
We were in a pub. We were talking it over. I was there to offer support or whatever the hell it was I could offer.
I looked at him. "I'm sorry..."
He stared at his pint. "It hurts," he said.
I traced the scratch in the tabletop with my finger and thought what a bloody minefield the whole thing was. We know we could get blown up but we still head out there because it makes us feel more alive.
We finished our pints and drank another round. Then another. We drank until we could forget everything for a little while.
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