We've been together twenty-five years, and I'm starting to repeat the stories I tell her. The other day it was the same one about the lady climbing over the fence behind the motel while I sat watching during physical therapy. I know I've told her that one before. Something compels the re-telling.
You know how you can read a book & think it was just okay but then you read it again years later and it's life-changing? Maybe your stories work like that. With each re-telling they mean something slightly different because of the experiences you've had together between the re-tellings.
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