I don't know what to think anymore. Actually, I do. It's not my place, not my problem, not my worry. Useless, because you don't even know I'm here. But if you're sick, be sick. Admit it, and get help. If you're just being manipulative, then you're exactly who I think you are. I want to hate you, I want to be able to stick you into that tiny little box in the back of my brain and leave you there, because you are small and petty. That's who I want you to be, because it makes leaving you the right thing to do. You were killing me. I know that. Everyone, including you, saw that when we were together. You were killing me. Leaving you was the right thing to do, because you were killing me. Yet I still feel guilty, because if you are sick, if you were sick, now you're all alone. I am not reaching out to you again because you will drain the life out of me, fully aware of what you're doing, regardless of whether you are sick are not, because regardless of whether you were sick or not, you were killing me. If you're sick, get help.
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