I’ll live forever. Making friends has become such a chore. That’s why I don’t. I try to just talk to those I’ve already made. However recently, even that has become daunting. Every word, I fear a misstep, angering and estranging a person I love. I do love them, else they wouldn’t be my friend. Despite my fear, I’m glad to have met them. I’m glad to know that every day, they’re happy I was there, and every day, they know I’ll be there tomorrow. Maybe I should make more friends.
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