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“We played hot potato with my heart—me throwing it to him, him tossing it back to me. But every time the music stopped, I was always the one holding my bruised organ—out of the game.” — Genna Rulon
We played hot potato with my heart—me throwing it to him, him tossing it back to me. But every time the music stopped, I was always the one holding my bruised organ—out of the game.