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Nodding, I drag my finger down the condensation on the side of my pint glass. The beer snob in me wants to point out they’re serving this stout way too cold, but judging by the way my stomach keeps flip-flopping, I won’t be drinking it anyway. I already miss him so much it hurts. “I’ve always been the problem. Not him. If anything, I wish he weren’t so great. Because then maybe . . .” I sigh