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A single overhead light in your living room cascades and covers every inch. Paint is scattered on various plates and easels filled with various expression of artistic ability lay around the little corners we have claimed for ourselves. In here, our secrets and thoughts are thrown about and we both know that they will never leave this room. Yet, some do. As the days went on from this little memory, things started to change. We became different people but still remained the same. I feel closer with those you have decided to throw aside in a sense of "bettering yourself" or "branching out". I have done the same, but have not neglected those who brought me to where I am today. The ones who made you feel at home and that you belonged to something are now the ones you refuse to claim for your own childish reasons. This isn't bettering yourself or branching out, this is about forgetting who loved you the most. I want to yell and scream at you for doing this to us, but I know that will solve nothing. Maybe you'll come back to us when you feel what I have felt or maybe you will come back when there is no one else. I'm not sure which way will be yours, but I know that I will welcome you with open arms.
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