And me and Darcy? We resolved that shit. We became friends – hell, better friends than I ever could have imagined being. And when you were in prison, I was there for her. Every day. I showed up, because she needed me and she was hurting, and I knew part of me was repenting for all the fucked up shit I did. But I just plain cared about her too. She reminded me of who I was without all the layers of politics and ruthless power claiming I’d been moulded for. And honestly, I’ve never felt more like myself since I let all that shit go. I know Darcy means the world to you because she pulled you from
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