I feel do lonely that it's making me feel sick. I rather be your walls than outside of them, Theresa. For what it's worth, the golden silence will enrich us both. You may find yourself missing me and I may count you among my friends again
I don't know when losing friends began to weigh on me so heavily. Shouldn't loss be lighter? Unburdened by closeness, comfort, conscience and all I feel is dead weight in their place.
I don't know if I can talk to anyone else the same way. I'm not sure they'll hear me. I'm afraid they won't understand because I say things a certain way.
I don't like the idea of being misinterpreted. I wonder if Woe would understand, but to put all this evil s**t on one friend is so selfish. But I can't tell parts of the same story to different people.
My stomach hurts.
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