That sinking feeling in your stomach as the color drains from your face, while your chest tightens on that last breath and your eyes widen as the words, "At least you know better. Most girls would falsely read into it, but you know he's full of shit and this doesn't mean anything," stream from your girlfriend's mouth with such clarity and conviction while, unbeknownst to her, you reluctantly hope with every quickened heart beat:
"But what if it does mean something?"
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