I would like to say simply that this is concerning the feelings of a lost friendship. You thought you were a friend to me. Maybe you were. Maybe that's what we needed then, but it seems more and more further from the truth as time surpasses us; what we used to mean to each other. We used to be so much more, and you have formed an oblivion to the intentions that are pervading to me more than simply tangible misguided embracements. The dope of a new found love is perfuse to my nostrils as I am alone; sheltered by the devices I have built as crutches. As life beats me down, you vanish. Disparate. Like a freshly made chemical burning in an Erlenmeyer flask under a newly sparked Bunsen burner. I am that flask being burned by this new passion, and you, the chemical boil near me, and I make you evaporate because of the heat; the discomfort of being close to me. There are so many parallels in the formation of this hypothetical model. You'll never see this or probably even care to hear it, but I hope you feel it.
Until we meet again,
Peak
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