We're driving somewhere through Idaho when my phone buzzes gently, telling me I've got a message. I'm in the passenger seat, a friend is driving, and there's another friend in the back of the car. I'm in the middle of a story, talking about that one time, in that one place, when we did that one thing -- something funny that ends with mistaken
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The ending was extremely satisfying, especially after you did such a good job of building up all those emotions in the rest of the story.
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I'm so glad this was fiction. I've known people who were like this "ex," and people who were at the mercy of that type of person, and my gut reaction to all of it is, "Run. Fast and far."
That type of person creates drama, partly because what they really want is to be wanted and desired... but at a distance where things never go any farther. They want _you_ (usually one or two people) to be the foremost members of their fan club, but they don't want you coming over that wall and actually joining them.
They're poison, in so many ways. Anyone who loves them is doomed to start feeling less desirable, less reasonable, less lovable, because if they were just more of that something, that person would fall in love with them. But it will never be enough-- because ultimately, it isn't even about them ( ... )
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Oh, this was so hard to read. This frayed all my heart strings. I wish I had had the wherewithal to consciously let go of those fragile threads of connection. So well done.
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You did this so well.
Very well done!
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