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The envelope is thick in es But when I tear it open and look, I realize it’s because e and slanted and drunk, I could only fit e of hotel stationery I’d spilled sohtly as if I could barely fold the them in a in to read I can practically feel his curiosity where his eyes are fixed on my face

Dear Mia selfMiaselfMyself it starts I bite back a grin I re on the toilet lid and struggling to focus on the pen and paper

You’re sitting on the toilet writing a letter to yourself to read later because you’re drunk enough to know you’ll forget a lot tomorrow but not so drunk that you can’t write But I know you because you’re et everything that happens when you’ve had gin So let me tell you:

he’s ansel

you kissed him

he tasted like lemon and scotch

you put his hand in your underwear and then

you talked for hours yes, you talked i talked we talked we told hi

this is confusing

I’d forgotten this I look up at Ansel, a prickling blush rising beneath the skin of my cheeks I can feelover them

"I was so drunk when I wrote this," I whisper

He only nods at me, and then nods at the paper, as if he doesn’t want me to be interrupted, even by

you told hi after

you told hiine

you told hi to dance "just for fun" after

you told him about luke and how he said it felt like the old Mia died under the truck

you told hie Broc and Jeff from sweet kids into dickheads