Juan Go Out With Me?

Desperate for a date for a funeral. That specific moment where you’re strikingly alone in a room full of humans, it’s like a frightening dagger through the roof of your hand. Standing, seeming foolish yet no one even realizes you’re there in the rain. Hate coming to burials alone, heavy-footed with dark, downward eyes, mouth wishing to be wordless for the rest of the day. Small talk with distant acquaintances torture my soul unless I’ve someone by my side. Whaddya say?

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