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Draft Message.

To: S.

March 6, 1:52 am.

Happy birthday, beautiful. I know we almost never speak and I know that we probably will never be the same we were years ago and that you're a new person, but I miss you. It's 1:52 in the morning and fuck, I miss you and every time I think about it I hate myself more for letting you go.

I just wanted you to know that I'm sorry. For everything. I swear to God I'm turning crazy by doing this.

I love you.

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