So much happened that the idea of writing it down seemed too bloated a task to tackle
So, I let it go.
I had more emotions tied up in his succes than I imagined possible
I made him my black yardstick
The gruesome truth about my failures.
I gave him thoughts I'm sure he didn't have
(Though I can't prove it either way.)
I wish that I could talk to him without turning on myself
I'm the meanest dude I know.
So much happened.
He's the nicest guy...
(Truly smart and descent)
He's busy
I'm not.
There's no good way to end this story
Blah.
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