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| ( 03.07.05 + 3:53 pm ) Fading And perhaps I have spent my life waiting for those around me to be okay with letting me go. Rory: I always knew he would eventually become bored and disenchanted with my limited intelligence. Chris: I knew things would end exactly as they have: just nothing, no contact. Hence, my previous overwhelming anxiety after every series of 7 days without hearing from him. Every phone call meant, "I am here, not just in your thoughts, and I need you in my life too." This was always implied to me, even when we just painfully retold contents of our weekends. There was a comfort in it to me. He isn't the type to formally end things, followed by sparse congenial IMs symbolic of friendship. I was never the type to confront him with problems, or allow thing to ever turn sour without a good reason. We both knew this would be hard, I knew it would be harder for me, he knew it would be harder for me. So expectedly unexpected. So rewardingly painful. Nights balancing my entire body into a tight ball, sitting at me desk, how could he be so cold? When will that e-mail of condolences arrive? He knows I am in this ball. He knows it hurts to breath the necessary number of times each minute. These moments are not followed by thoughts of "how dare he," but rather, "what's wrong with me," and avoiding my own reflection until morning.
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