i used to be different. so very different from the person that i have become. i used to think that some things mattered. like what people thought of the people i liked. i used to dwell on their thoughts and always thought of the future and how wonderful it would be with that person. they were all fairy tales. tales that i conjured up in my
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I'd love to ignore it and say to myself that my "best guy friend" really didn't think that about me. No, Steve-O, I really did give a flying fuck about you. You'll never be unlucky enough for me to do anything to hurt you. In fact, you know damn well that you were my best friend through everything. I never wanted you to get hurt. Hell, if you had told me that you were around Wendy again, I wouldn't have been angry. Not in the least. I've always wanted you to be happy. Maybe if she's finally over that one asshole, you'll remember how badly I just wanted you two just to date. Remember the birth of the "joo" nickname? Or maybe that all got clouded in your paranoid fantasies of your being my puppet all those years ( ... )
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