Sav, Six fucking months. I can’t believe I’m still writing you letters when you don’t even open them or read them. But somehow, it helps to write to you. It makes me feel close to you. I want to hate you for leaving me. I try to hate you, Sav, but I can’t. Kate’s trying to fill your shoes, but I can’t talk to her. Not the way I talked to you. And she’s a cold person, so I don’t trust her. A part of me feels like maybe that’s what I deserve. Someone who I can’t hurt because sometimes I think she doesn’t have actual feelings. I don’t have to worry with her. Maybe we deserve each other. My mother
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