I often dream of how awkward it will be when we run into each other again. It’s always somewhere in public, and we don’t know where to begin, so we painfully make small talk. Then my stomach begins to churn...the way it does when I drive by your apartment. The way it does when I pathetically hope to catch a glimpse of you as I pass where you
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i guess that's life but, you were right. it does really hurt to read things like these. to know you've been left far behind.
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also, i'd appreciate it if you'd quit childishly insulting me over the internet. you're suddenly a lot braver behind a computer screen. writing can be cathartic (which honestly was my sole motivation), which i'm sure you're aware of. i leave your writing alone. you should do the same with mine.
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