Thursday, January 5, 2012

I miss you. But I'm already fine with that. Soon I will not miss you anymore. My mom's asking about you. You're gonna live beyond thirty five right? Maybe this will be my last letter. But this doesn't count as a letter, I think. I don't wanna see you again. For a while maybe. I don't miss you that much anymore. I'm going out for a smoke now. I can't share my cigarettes anymore. I'm back to reds. Which is good. Doesn't taste like you. Bye now.

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