you parasocial, invasive weirdos need to dispense with the audacity of inserting yourselves into other people's private affairs and learn to exercise some discretion for once.
i sometimes feel immense guilt when i think about how i've become that one friend who disappeared from everyone's lives without a word, without leaving any means of contact behind, and how they speak of me as though i'm a ghost from the past, if they still speak of me at all.
there is something tragic about the dozens of letters my friends and i wrote to one another, each with a designated date on which it was to be opened, and how so many of them expressed uncertainty over whether i would still be their friend by then. deep down, they knew.










