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October 20, 2015

Somewhere among my stuff stored in my mom's basement (if she hasn't thrown it away) is a piece of chewing gum in a piece of paper, rescued from an ashtray, saved from certain disposal in the regular trash, by me, in a frenzy after my ex-boyfriend discarded it when visiting my brother (his best friend) at the family house where I still lived because I was maybe only 20 and couldn't possibly live without a tiny grayish imprint of perhaps two of his cherished molars.  I wonder if I would have done the same thing had he blown his nose.