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they were right.

as much at it sucked to admit, i was a horrible boyfriend.

maybe it was the fact that i could no long look myself in the mirror. or maybe the fact that the most i've consumed in the past few days was a ultra black monster (coraline's favorite flavor), and a brown sugar cinnamon pop-tart (also coraline's favorite).

but i felt sick and lonely.

i didn't really have anything to do. the search parties gave up, the police wants to assume her dead, everything was slipping between my fingers like sand.

though, albeit odd to say, there was something euphoric about giving up. maybe, if she was dead, then she wouldn't have to deal with my bullshit anymore.

thats gruesome to say though, isn't it?

i miss her

i still call her, though it never goes through. her phone was shattered into pieces, we had to throw it out.

the robotic voice taunts me every day

"we're sorry, but you cannot reach this number."

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