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Maybe. Maybe. I'd like him to wake up to somebody he can talk to, at least.
I can make that happen.
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Maybe. Maybe. I'd like him to wake up to somebody he can talk to, at least.
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No. Not at all. *Sits down and rubs my shoulder, looking at his eyes and then turning away* I don't know if I'm ready to talk to him just yet.
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I think so, too. The youthful part of me wants to fall in love all over again just looking at him—but that's not a very rational response. I just can't believe—of all days, of all the people that could randomly show up at our doorstep—it's him.
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Well, maybe, but eight years is almost a third of my life!
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This is one of the weirdest things that has ever happened to me. It feels like I'm a kid again, like anything could happen— I'm sure that's just the memories, though.
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I don't think so. When Bryson decides to do something, he commits to it. He would have found a way to survive. Gosh, all these memories are coming back.
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Oh, right. *Giggles* He did. As long as I knew him, he was doing fine, and he was able to make enough money to support himself.
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When I met him, he was trying to work as a private investigator while under parole. He was pretty good at it!
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Yeah, a while before he met me he was a petty thief living on the streets. There's poor in every city, even the most advanced civilisations.
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As soon as I could get back, I tried to find him, but something happened to both he and his parole officer, and they both went missing.