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I will remember one night, stilettos and broken glasses, and singing along for every 1980’s recurring hit. I will remember the anticipation in every lyric and how my feet have never been more restless, knowing they either had to run with scissors or stay one next to the other if I was to rush into you. I will remember how the light in the bar, at the party’s final scene, was surreal and white, and my anything but tired eyes and ears were stamped with more flash when Mark Knopfler began playing in the taxi and I smiled knowingly, the way you smile when you know all battles are lost, yet you still go to war with white flags around your arms.