that night I had let your words swim straight to my head like scotch, had let them warm me until I was dizzy and aglow with contentment. in passing remarks I heard unspoken promises; in casual truths I heard a secret, fervent desire. yet this was my standard method, deriving unfounded significance and meaning from ordinary prose, my lesson still unlearned. in the morning I shook the last intoxicating traces from my head and knew with a heavy heart that this had once again been a labor of self-deception.

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