I was with him for almost four years. The shockingly handsome stranger at the Modest Mouse concert became my boyfriend, my soulmate, my partner in crime. We were the couple that made everyone sick: kissing in pubs, giggling silently at parties, rubbing legs at hockey games. We were young and tall and full of potential, partying into the wee hours and exchanging drunken pledges, until two unexpected blue lines changed my life. But not his.
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