He wouldn’t even hug me. He acted as if it bothered him to even talk to me. Do I repulse him? Do I smell bad? Can I not have a friend? Or is it her—she can’t be my friend. Well, buddy—you’re pretty messed up in the head. I love you both so much, and I’m happy to call you my friends. So, fuck you. I can’t help it if I am who I am. I didn’t ask to be me. I also didn’t ask to have one of the greatest friends in the world (and obviously she didn’t ask to be with someone as fucked up as you). Things happen. I don’t control the world. I can’t tell you what to do. I’m not changing who I am for anyone, especially an asshole like you. Fuck you and your grand old horse you rode in on.
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