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    Summary

    27/12
    Dear Ranboo,

    I don’t really know why I’m writing this. Well I do. Tommy told me it would be good for my mental health, whatever the fuck he means by that. But him and Phil went out and got me a little journal and fancy pen and I’d feel bad if I didn’t use them. I didn’t tell him everything about you. Just that I made a friend and that- well he couldn’t stay. I wonder if by writing these letters I’m getting out all my emotions like Tommy said I would. Or if I’m writing them with hopes that you’ll still read them. The journal still reminds me of you with your stupid memory book. I still have it. I left it in a box under the guest room bed. It’s not the only thing in there. I have some dried magnolias too, from the dashboard. And the dumb Hawaiian shirt and red hoodie and mismatched shoes. Last I checked your shoes had mould growing on them from all the time you’d walked through streams with them on and complained your socks were wet.
    I don’t know if I can keep doing this.

    Tubbo

    Language:
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