I spend most of my days thinking about the man I am becoming, worrying that adventures in mediocrity will become permanent, that I will eventually give up the dreams that used to guide me through all the times I could barely make myself move, and how for a long period of time, I had lost them
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It scares me to think that you could be living as far away as Mass soon, but I have to stop and think that, like me, you have a life to build. I realize I can't disappear to Manchester and expect everyone to still be "home" when I can come back. Life isn't accommodating in that way.
I miss you everyday, Champ. And don't worry about all of us drifting apart. I'd die before I'd let that happen.
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