I'm sorry I couldn't do it. I'd like to say I really tried, but I didn't. The whole time I sort of knew it wouldn't be that easy. I think I should still get brownie points for attempting it though, even if it was just a pathetic little stab in that direction. I'm not even sure why I tried, I mean, it was just a weird little thing my hand did, when it covered up your picture. I thought it was some sort of sign that I couldn't stand to see your photo. Well, I'm usually wrong with all this stuff anyways. Like I was wrong about you and me. Well, I may still have been right actually. Though, that's a problem I can only solve by talking to you or doing some serious hacking, and, well, I prefer the hacking. Anyways, I'm sorry I couldn't stop. Even though I don't know if you want me to or not, it would probably just be best if we could forget it all. Maybe we could be friends, who knows. All I know is that I don't want to let go of you just yet. You've sort of become a part of me, and I was never much of a masochist. Well, one could argue that I am, for doing this to myself. But I think I'd rather bear the long suffering than rip you out of my heart.
Because I'm not brave, not really, not like you said I was, not like I hope you think.
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