I sit, bewildered, amidst this mass of foliage, rock, and clay. I idly wonder at the sheer physical beauty of this place, and for a moment I think I can fool myself into believing I could get used to this life. This land, with its mountains and snow falling on barren trees and suburban housewives and lattes and seemingly important yet utterly
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i often wonder how your existence is going. i hope everything is good.
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i don't know why we can't stick. but i don't think it's a testament to anything other than the fact that we grew apart due to circumstance. i mean...we were so young when we knew one another. it's not a fault, i don't think, and it doesn't reflect badly on either of us.
it's not pointless. if it was, we wouldn't be worried about it.
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