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James

August 1999

When people often tell you that your writing is so eloquent, or that they only wished they could write as well as you, they come to expect the same high quality material from you in everything you write. And you come to expect it yourself. So it's hard when you write something that isn't quite up to that standard. Sometimes I disgust myself with my writing. "What the hell was that?" or "What was I thinking when I wrote that pile?" I have lots of ideas for stories, and even more ideas for individual episodes. The problem is, the episodes are never enough to base a whole story on. Or I try to start writing a story, and they always fall apart, or hit a dead end. But I've always found it slightly easier to write a work of non-fiction, so maybe this will work out okay.

This is an abbreviated account of my entire relationship, so far, with my boyfriend. I'm mostly writing it for myself, to go over what has happened, but I thought maybe other people would be somewhat interested. Or maybe someone can give me some advice. Sorry it's so long, but we've gone through a lot. I hope you're sitting in a comfortable chair.

A little over 19 months ago, I was sitting at this very computer, doing Myself-knows-what, when a little message popped up on my ICQ floating status icon. No, it wasn't my 24-year-old boyfriend of 6 months, who had actually introduced me to ICQ in the first place; it was some stranger looking to have a little chat with me. I wish ICQ wasn't as fickle as it is, so I might still have records of this strangers first messages to me. But, I try not to dwell over missing little sentimental things like that. After all, who really remembers their first conversation with their spouse anyway?

"What's your name? Oh, Dave, huh." I must admit, I think that's about the best name. Sexy, mature. A little exotic, in a way. Although, I had to get over the creepy association with my older uncle of the same name. Anyway, David seemed to be really shy. I came on pretty strong, teasing him and pestering him, trying to get all the personal information I could out of him. We talked for a while, both of us eventually forming strong feelings for the other. I knew we were going to get along great. Maybe even go out together. The only problem? About 9,000 miles; the Pacific Ocean. He lives in Sydney, Australia, and I live in Ohio.

I was his first boyfriend. I was his first love, really. He had lived his 21.5 years being just Dave, occasionally interested in guys, but never really thinking much of it. He never had a girlfriend either. I was the beginning of his love life, his sex life, and his realization of what he wanted. He came out to his mother not too long after, and a few friends along the way as well.

The next few days were difficult. We fell in love, very quickly. But we knew that if we became attached to each other, it would be at least a few years before we could be together. We didn't know what to do, so I decided Id block his access to me. If I cut it off quickly, wed be better off in the long run. But I couldn't handle that. Less than a day later, I had him back on my list, and that's when I asked him if he'd be my boyfriend. It was my 15th birthday, Dec 22nd of 1997. I told Joe that things between us were over, and Dave and I started our rocky relationship.

Just about everything after that point is pretty blurry to me. I learned a lot about his life, his family. I learned he plays guitar in a band, likes to sing a lot, was going to college, and doing software developing on the side. He's extremely intelligent, like myself, and that's one of the reasons I liked him so much. He begged me to sing for him once, but because of a lot of bad past experiences with people making fun of my singing, although they always say they were just kidding, I told him "There's no way Ill EVER sing for you!" His favorite song is "Africa" by Toto. He likes to sing it, and play it on his guitar. He really loves that song, and his sang it for me once. And on top of all that, he was directing a comedy show called the Revue, in Sydney. He's definitely a busy man; but that meant we didn't always have a lot of time to talk to each other. Plus, there's a 14 hours time difference to consider. But he still called occasionally, sometimes talking to me for 4 hours or more, for a phone bill in excess of $100. He spent lots of money on me, even though he's far from rich, sending me stuffed bears and greeting cards on holidays, buying me CDs and whatever else I wanted online. He sent me cards that said things like this:

On a Valentine card: "I am sure I will never tire of loving you. I know that even in our old age, my heart will still buzz with joy whenever I see you. Whenever I think of you. You are my everything, and I look forward to sending you Valentines for the next 80 years."

I never really showed much appreciation for him. I always thanked him for the gifts, and of course I appreciated them, but I never showed him that I appreciated him as well. I never realized that appreciation is about the time, money, thought, and sacrifice that you make when you give a gift. It isn't "Wow, thanks for the CD." Its "Wow, thanks for the CD, thank you for giving up your money for it, thank you for depriving yourself of what you could have bought with that money, and thank you for loving me enough to do it all."

I yelled at him a lot, too. Why haven't you written in 2 days? What the hell is going on with you? I'm lonely here, and you don't care enough to tell me what you're up to. And then, when I find out what he's up to, do you know what happened? Once, his back cramped up and he was left immobilized on the kitchen floor for a whole day until he could see his doctor. Once a huge thunderstorm destroyed his modem. Once his lung collapsed and he was in the hospital for a few days. And I yelled at him. I'm sure he felt bad enough.

And then there's the indifference. I didn't really listen to him. He would tell me things that meant a lot to him, and I would either ignore it, or just not show any interest. He used to get annoyed because my favorite phrase was "Yeah, whatever." Or sometimes I would just say "Uh huh" and change the subject. But it wasn't like that on his part. He listened intently to everything I said. He liked talking about me, about what Id been doing, anything like that. And trust me, I like talking about myself. Not to just anyone, but people I trust. And he has a unique sense of humor that he says attracts people to him. He's extremely pun-ny all the time. Every two minutes, a pun is coming out of his mouth. Puns aren't really my favorite joke, but regardless, I don't really laugh a lot at jokes. And even though I find him hilarious, when he wants to be, of course, he thinks that I think his sense of humor is stupid. But that's not true at all. If I did think that, I wouldn't want to be with him.

Were both very sexual too. It didn't seem like that at the beginning. He never really seemed like he was into talking about sex. I asked him once if he was sure he liked men. He told me he was just not very interested, although he would love to please me. Then, as time went on, he became more and more interested. He would talk about sex with me all the time. And it didn't bother me; but that turned into the only thing we really had to talk about. Besides how much we love each other and how we couldn't wait to be together. Sometimes he wanted me to masturbate with him on the phone, but I didn't really want to. It really disappointed him sometimes.

And there was also the unfaithfulness. At one point, during the fall of 1998, I started lusting after some guys in band. I let Dave know, and he told me I should pursue them. He didn't want me to end up like he did, 22 years old, with a childhood of regret that he never had any experiences that teenagers do at that age. It really bothers him that he took so long to find a boyfriend, and he's always afraid he's getting too old to be attractive. I try to ensure the silly boy that he's only 23, he's very good looking, and regardless or that, he has me. So he doesn't need to worry about anybody else finding him attractive. Anyway, the whole thing of looking around lasted about a month, and it ended up tearing Dave's heart in pieces, and blowing up in my face. The rumors of my orientation at school now have a basis because I came on to someone who turned out to be a total dickhead. But Ill be out of school in a couple years and Ill never have to worry about that again. But Ill have to live the rest of my life knowing what I did to poor David. Then, there was even a time that I jacked off one of my casual friends, who I, by the way, had and still have no interest in whatsoever. It was horrible of me, making him cry just about every night. He would say that he lived for me, and he's never find someone else if I decided to leave him, but all the while supported my heartless endeavors. Luckily that's all over with now.

Then came December, and his vacation. After his successful production of the AUJS Revue, some of the cast, which were also his friends, wanted to visit America, and he went too. They saw just about everything, from the Grand Canyon to San Franciscos streetcars. The whole time, he would use every chance he could to call me, paying tons for phone cards, and leaving the hotel rooms to stand outside in the cold and use the pay phone. Or occasionally he could use the hotel lobby, talking to me after the hotel had closed and the exit doors would lock after he walked out. And we grew more and more nervous, but eager to see each other. It had been more than a year, and we wanted to touch each other more than anything.

But one day, he sent me an email with a picture a digital camera had taken at Epcot. The picture quality was disgusting, but he didn't realize it, and I didn't know that the picture wasn't very accurate. When I saw it, I think I felt sick and scared. All the pictures I had already seen of him were so cute, but suddenly he appeared to be completely different, with strange skin tones and really fat cheeks. I still loved him, but I didn't know how attracted to him I would be.

I felt bad for feeling that way, but one night on the phone, about a week before he would be in Ohio, I told him how I felt. He figured out that something was bothering me, and eventually he got the general idea. He has always been aware of his weight, being 6'2" and about 165 lb., he thought he was chubby. But he never looked that chubby to me, with his skinny arms and legs. He did have a bit of a gut, but he was far from fat. I had never thought about his weight as being any problem at all, but even talking about it makes it seem like it could be. He's just paranoid though. Anyway, he was afraid I thought he was fat, but I told him it was something he couldn't exercise away. He knew then what I was talking about, his face. I felt bad about telling him, but I needed to tell him the truth. He cried that night. On the phone, with me. I hurt him so badly. Later I found out that after we had ended the conversation, he went back to the hotel room, avoided his friends, and, unable to sleep, gazed out the window all night long. Crying softly.

The day he came, I was so nervous. Of course my parents don't know, so I was meeting him at my best friend, Juanita's house. She had known about me since 8th grade, and she knew Dave the whole time we were going out. Her parents learned about me sometime along the way, and her mother Jenny seemed to like me a lot. So, that cold winter evening of January 15th, I drove over to her house. They were cooking spaghetti for dinner, and it was nearly finished. "Tell him to hurry up," Juanita told me, "its gonna be done and cold if he waits too long." I was so nervous, I didn't want to call him. I was feeling so freaked out, I wanted to postpone it. My stomach was in knots. I had no doubt that I loved him and wanted him, but I was just extremely nervous. But, I picked up the phone, hands shaking, and called his hotel room, which was only about a 20-minute drive away. I told him they said to hurry up, and he said "Oh, really?" in his wonderful Aussie accent. He said he needed to take a shower, then he'd be right over.

I sat on the couch, my stomach completely unsettled, anticipating his arrival. Then, when he finally came, I nearly died. "You answer the door!" I insisted to Juanita. He walked inside, and all I could do was look up at him. He towered over me, 6'2" with about 2" heels on his huge boots, me only 5'7" in just my socks. "I knew you were too tall!" is all I knew to say. He smiled at me, and we made a silly attempt at a nervous hug. Then, we went right to dinner. I had a whole plate of spaghetti and salad before me, but there was absolutely no way I could hold anything down. Dave made some feeble attempts at eating, just to be courteous, but he couldn't handle me staring at him from across the table. He gave up, laughing and trying to look away. We were such a sorry sight.

Later that night, when Juanita's parents left to run the local bingo, and she was busy on the computer, Dave and I sat on the couch together. I was terribly nervous, taking my good time to be comfortable even sitting beside him. Let alone the fondling and other fun activities that came soon after. One of the greatest moments was reaching into his pocket for his wallet. His thigh was awfully warm : ) Eventually he was all over me, kissing me everywhere, taking my whole ear into his mouth, touching me all over. It scared me at first. Made me wonder if that's all he was looking for. But the second or third night, I talked to him after we left her house, him at the hotel, and me at home. I told him my concerns, and he told me why he was acting that way. He felt horrible for making me feel uncomfortable, and he couldn't keep from crying. But he told me that he was only doing it because he was so afraid I wouldn't find him attractive. He wanted to show me he was a good lover. The situation about his cheeks the weeks before was still hurting him, and as I've found out, it left psychological damage that I can never repair.

We discussed everything, decided to take things a little slower, and I saw him in a different light. I enjoyed the sex with him more, although I never did feel comfortable with him watching me as I went down on him. I wanted to put a pillow over his face so I could go to work in private, but he said it didn't do anything for him unless he could watch. That's going to be a problem for me. We fell in love all over again that week. We spent time together, went to a movie with Juanita, her boyfriend, & her parents, went to dinner, and lots of other stuff. One day, at school, I became very ill. I couldn't eat lunch, but I decided to buy a Lil Juicy to drink. Later that day, I almost passed out in history class, and had to walk out to go to the office. I went to the nurses office, and vomited in the trashcan. After I sat there for a while, I felt better, so I went to wash my face and clean out my mouth in the bathroom. I stuck out the rest of the last period of school, and then got in the Dave's rented car so he could take us to Juanita's house. He was saddened because I felt bad, but didn't realize how bad it was. When we got to her house, I needed to go to the bathroom. And when I was done, I was too week to walk back downstairs, so I just laid on the linoleum floor for about 5 minutes. I went back down, and sat on the couch with Dave. I was freezing and shivering, so he put his arms around me while I tried to rest. Juanita called my mom to pick me up, because I couldn't stay and make everyone sick. He didn't want to let go of me, and I knew he was crying. My mom arrived, and I stood up slowly, turned to look at him, and sadly walked out. He tried to give me an encouraging smile, but he couldn't do it through the pained tears.

Luckily, the next day I felt well enough to go out, which would have been anything short of vomiting. After all, I didn't want to waste any of our short week together. We were going to go out to the move that evening, so I was resting in anticipation. My parents decided to leave to go buy a new television, so I calculated that Dave would be able to come to my house for about 20 minutes before they could possibly get back home. And that would be if they only drove to the store they were going to, stayed there for 1 minute, and drove right back home. So, he came over, and we played together on my bed for a few minutes. Then, we heard a noise downstairs. He started freaking out, but I told him I could come up with a story to explain who he was. I quietly crept across the hall to see out the window if anyone was parked outside. No one, ~phew~. He was terribly shaken up, so he went right back to his hotel. I was disappointed though, because my parents were gone for about an hour longer.

And here's the ironic part. Talking to my mom, I found out that they actually had been home. It turns out that they went to the store, and they found a TV they wanted immediately, and had to come home and get the $1,200 for it, and then get back before the store closed. That's why it seemed as if no one was actually there, because they left so soon. Dave came to pick me up later that evening, and that's when I told him. He was pretty freaked out.

Anyway, we planned it so I could go to his hotel and take a shower, me being sick and all I needed to clean the germs off, before we had to meet Juanita to get to the movie on time. We played around on his bed a while, then took a looong shower, and we found out we were running very late, so we threw on clean clothes and sped back to her house. "Where have you been!" she asked.

The gist of the week was that we had lots of sex, lots of hugs, and a bit of making out. Our first real sex happened the night after the movie. We laid together on a blanket, by Juanita's bed. When she fell asleep, I felt behind me, grabbed Lil Davey, as we call him, and positioned him near my you know. I whispered to him "What are you thinking?" and that's how it started.

Our last night, I gave him my CDs to record my favorite songs with his MD player, after we ate out with Juanita and her mom at Pizza Hut. When it came around 10pm, we knew we would have to take me home. We all walked outside, Juanita and Jenny getting in their truck. I hugged Dave, and told him "One last kiss." I don't remember the kiss at all though. I don't remember anything between walking out of the house, and then just being in the truck somehow. And as we started to drive away, and turn the corner, I waved goodbye to him. We were both crying.

The next day, I suffered through school thinking about him going back home. I tried to call him at lunch, as we planned to do, so I could tell him goodbye before he had to leave for the airport. Unfortunately, the hotel attendant was out to lunch, and I couldn't get hold of him. I was seriously po'd. Luckily, he called Juanita's house when we got there after school, and he was at the airport. I wished him a nice flight. He had left my CDs in a hidden spot by Juanita's house, with a note to me, and a pair of his cute, red cotton underwear that I liked.

He sent me a card soon after. Inside, it said "My most precious Jamey, I'm not quite sure when you'll be reading this. I am sure that tears have been or will be shed, and that we are both painfully torn up by the thought of being apart again but at the time I am writing this, I feel nothing but a slightly pained optimism. You see, not only has this week been the most incredible week of my life, but it has shown me that we are the perfect couple, and that we will work. And although we will feel lonely at times, missing each other and craving to be together, we can look at the situation and realize that we will be together soon, and we can look forward to a life of happiness, success & comfort together in the not-too-distant future. Wherever you are, whatever you are doing, all my love will be with you, so don't feel alone, because I promise you that you are in my thoughts and dreams every second of every day. And before you know it, we'll be together again. So keep that adorable little chin of yours up and stay exactly as incredibly perfect as you are. ~hugs~ I love you with all my heart. Yours eternally, Dave." He has the most beautiful handwriting as well.

And so, we missed each other a lot. We went over everything we did together again and again for months afterward. This was my favorite moment, I wish we could have done this, we should have done this differently. But we wanted to be together so much. We had completely fallen in love all over again. If I had any doubts before, they had all vanished.

But then, at the end of May, things turned around. I became bossy again, yelled at him for stupid things. We got into a fight once, but we made up. Then, once I yelled at him for something incredibly stupid that Id rather not even mention. And that was the clincher. He couldn't handle it. He wanted to break up. I flipped out. I couldn't bear breaking up with him. My whole life became worthless within seconds. I beat my head against the wall. I had a razor on my wrist. I wanted to die; I needed to die. He wouldn't listen to me. He wouldn't forgive me. He left to go to work or something, and I was here alone, hysterical, and suicidal. He called Juanita and she came over to make sure I was okay.

So, ever since then, I've been figuring out why I act the way that I do. I've been explaining my behavior to him. I've been promising how things will be different. I've been swearing that he means too much to me to ever hurt him again. But he cant believe me. He cant trust me. I've hurt him so many times that he doesn't think he can love me again. So, 2 months and a million emails later, here I am.

I've become a new person now. I've realized how much he means to me. And I've realized that I don't ever want to hurt him again. I've begged and pleaded with him to take me back, to give me another chance. But nothing phased him. The promises and pleads bounced off of him like rubber. He told me he knows that people don't change. They can promise they will, but mean people just need to be mean. That's their nature. But no, I'm different I know I am. I don't need to be mean to the man I love. I don't want to be mean to him. I swore to him "My priorities have changed. I only want to make you happy. I never want to hurt you again." But he wouldn't hear it.

Until I sent him a song. But not just any song. One that I sang for him. "There's no way Ill ever sing for you." It was John Michael Montgomerys "I Swear". It wasn't spectacular, but I practiced it all day long until I could sing it not too badly. And when I finally recorded the version I could listen to without losing my lunch, I sent it to him in an email entitled "I told you Id never sing for you. Priorities change." Soon after, on July 7th, I received an ICQ message from him that said:

"I have to go to bed *right now*, but I just wanted to say this:

I'm all yours.

Your last message was the sweetest and most reassuring thing in the world, and you've completely earned a second chance. I love you. Let's start anew, but remember, I still do need some time without a relationship, so if we can keep the expectations down for a while, I'd really appreciate that.

Goodnight my sweet boy. ~kiss!~

My *new* boyfriend :)

~hug~

Bye bye!"

I was ecstatic. Finally, I had gotten through to him. It wasn't until a while later that I figured out he gave me another chance because I had finally given up my pride to sing to him, not because of any of the things that I had said. He said the thing he hates most in the world is pride And he wanted to know if my pride is what kept me from being really sexual with him. And I had to admit, partly it was. Well, and shyness with embarrassment as well. I promised I would try not to be so uptight about letting him please me, about doing stuff over the phone, and about letting him watch when I did things to him. But that's something that will take time. I'm too shy to just jump into those kind of things with him, although I actually do want to. Even telling him I loved him while we were face to face was a challenge, because of my pride maybe. But I know now that Ill be able to very comfortable tell him how much he means to me, to his face. And that tells me that Ill be able to do the other things more comfortably as well eventually.

Then, just a week before I started writing this, on about July 24th or so, he told me some horrifying news. He had been saying that even though were getting along on the phone, he doesn't know if he even wants a relationship at the moment. He wrote in an email "Some things have happened in my life recently that have really confused me, and I feel even less ready for any sort of relationship now than I did before then. I'm not even sure I want a relationship at all right now. I'll admit, I do get along well with you on the phone, but again, you can have the world's best toaster but if you don't feel like having toast, you just don't feel like having toast. Sorry, kinda bad analogy. Oh well. Anyway have a great day babe."

My first reaction? I thought either he had started a drinking problem, from what I've seen of him in pictures he sent me, at his birthday party and some other events, or he had done something with a woman. Lots of his female friends have expressed to him in some way or other that they like him, and not very many know that he's gay yet. I've never been worried about them though, because I'm positive that Dave is 100% gay Aussie. I was very worried, so I called him up the next morning to see what had happened to him. He assured me both of my guesses were wrong, and told me what really happened.

The week before, he went on a one-week youth camp for Jewish youth in Sydney. He said there was only a little bit of religious propaganda involved, so it wasn't bad in that respect. He went because he needed a vacation, and wanted to have some fun. So, it turns out that he had his eye on one of the 19-year-old guys there. The whole week they had gotten along great. He told me that it showed him that if he was to leave me, he would be able to find someone there who appreciated him, and someone he could get along with and felt like he had things in common with. Anyway, one night he walked in on the guy and some girl who was also at the camp, having sex in his cabin. He lost it and ran out into the woods, in the pouring rain. Crying in agony and disappointment. After a while, the guy went looking for him, and pleaded with him to explain why he was so upset. "I cant tell you," Dave said. "You wouldn't understand." But after lots of begging and reassurance, Dave gave up his secret. And the guy said "Well I think I might be bi." And then he walked towards Dave, and kissed him.

I was devastated. My stomach turned over and over, I though I was going to vomit for sure. I hurt deep down inside. Everything was falling apart for me at the moment he told me that. He assured me that he wasn't interested in the guy, and he doesn't want to find anyone else right now. But it still hurt me. I'm pretty sure what hurt the most was imagining him straining to find someone to love him, and then feeling completely torn apart when he found out that the guy wasn't going to return his feelings. Of course, there was the kiss too, but I'm sure I can get past that eventually. Our phone call had to be cut short because he needed to go to work. But, the next day, I talked to him again, and found out that the kiss was only about 2 seconds long, although on the lips, and he didn't kiss back. He said "I didn't have time to react", so I asked him if he would have kissed back if he knew it was going to happen. But stupid me, I said something else before he could answer, and I forgot to ask him again. I want to find out, but I'm afraid hell say that he would have kissed back. And that will hurt very badly.

So, here I am. 19 months after meeting the man of my dreams, worse off than before. I know I want him more than anything, and I know he still loves me. Things are just very difficult now. School starts in a month, and when that happens, it will be even harder to find time when we can both be available to talk. He is broke now, and cant call me on the phone. His dad was fired 3 months ago and his severance pay has run out. And if Dave was to visit me again this winter, which is the only time he has a vacation because it will be summer in Australia, its still going to cost $1,800.00 American for the plane ticket alone. I don't know what were going to do. But I do know that I want to be with him forever, and I will wait until that can happen. I'm planning on moving there with my best friend, Juanita, of course, when we graduate high school in 2001. Then well find a college somehow and start our lives there. Dave hopes by then hell have enough saved for a down payment on a house, and a reliable job. If he visits me before then though, that'll take a huge chunk of those savings away. All the details are just mind-boggling.

I just sent him another song the other day. It was Africa, his favorite. The lyrics mean a lot more to us now than he could have ever anticipated. "Its gonna take a lot to drag me away from you. There's nothing that a hundred men, or more, could ever do." And another part that's true to myself, which says "I know that I must do what's right I seek to cure what's deep inside, frightened of this thing that I've become." I also sang a poem for him that I wrote a couple days ago. I called him on the 26th and told him to check his email, and to reply to it, and he said that he would. But he hasn't yet, and when I called him this morning, he wasn't home. And neither was anyone else, which is extremely odd. I hope nothings happened to him. But I don't know yet.

Until then, I'm stuck here in Ohio, all alone. Juanita's mother started an online affair about 6 months ago and she divorced her husband. And she moved, with Juanita, to Arkansas with her new man at the end of last school year. She came back to visit me a couple weeks ago so she could go to my sisters wedding, but she had to leave on the 27th. She swears that she'll go with me to Australia if I go too, and so that's the plan. All three of us, Juanita, her boyfriend Trent, and I will move across the earth to be in a strange country, away from the hell that is our lives. Finding jobs and colleges over there is going to be a pain in the ass, I'm sure, but for right now, I'm just worried about keeping Davey.

Well, that's all. My whole story. When I started this, I was expecting maybe 4 pages. And it turned into 10. Oh well. If you read this whole thing, I thank you so much. If you have nothing to say, that's all right. I don't know what to say myself.

You can find pictures of us by going to the web site I built for him last Valentines Day. I updated it for this years Valentines Day with pictures of him when he visited. You can see those at http://www.homestead.com/daveyandjamey There will also be some of the poems I've written for him, including the one I sang for him a couple days ago. And links to our individual homepages, where you can learn about us, and see more pictures of us, as well as find out how to contact us if you so wish. I'll probably be adding more stuff to it soon, like more poems, and a little biography of him. Hey, I'll probably even put this story on there so others can read all about it. And I'll have updates eventually too. And remember I said I went after some guy from school a while back? I think Ill include the letter I wrote to him on there as well. My friend Juanita also wrote a very good poem about religion, and what happens when you die, so I think you should go to my homepage to read that in my "Poems" section, as soon as I put it up. Well, at any rate, thanks a lot for reading this.

See ya later,

James
acerstar@bright.net


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