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Tuesday, 6 August 2013

And here I am, caring because I'm pretending to care

Well, fuck it. 

You all probably know I'm prone to bouts of talking to EBF. This time it started with AOB having left a message to thank me. I answered but he wasn't around. The not-so-obviously (il)logical thing to do was recycle a message I'd left AOB (just a link to a YouTube video) and send it to EBF. My message met a "what?" and a "by the way, I broke up with N2 about a month ago."

The "right" thing to do then was to worry, or at least pretend to care enough to worry (even though by now I frankly do not give a flying fuck). So I ask how he's doing and find he shares nothing in common with the person I called my best friend except for his name. He still won't tell me how he's doing, unless that's it in the message he just sent in after... oh, I don't know... maybe a half hour of one-liners? 

Fuck this. Just fuck it. Whatever took over me, urging and begging me to talk to him? What for? Don't I ever learn?

Oh, and, by the way, I was on this amazing trip, mere centimetres and decades away from genius. And, by the way, you didn't really consider coming here. And, by the way, you've lost your mind. And, by the way, I think I'm clinically depressed. And, by the way, have you noticed we're not really friends anymore? And, by the way, could you help me figure out what the fuck is wrong with me that I can't quite get the hint?

He's ok? Fine. I don't think I have anything more to say. 

Fuck it.

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