addendum
5:59 p.m.

You know what? I'm glad you're not reading this. Everything I just wrote sickens me.

Seems like I spent all of last year crying. Gods, I don't even blame you any more, for not caring. For falling out of love with me. I think _I_ fell out of love with me.

And what do I do but write a whole long whining litany about it, all over again.

Forgive me if you can, forget me if you must; what is done is done and I'm done with crying.

I will always love you.

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