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He seems so distant lately, like he’s not really there. I can hear him crying in the restroom, saying that he’s sorry. I wish I could steal the stars for him because his eyes have none left. He never smiles anymore, only the occasional smirk at the ground; it’s not because of something I said, it must be something in his mind. I’m frightened of what he thinks about. All I could imagine him thinking is blood and tears. There’s no more light left, he’s no longer the flame that keeps me warm. He’s more like a glum fall day with nothing but sulking. He won’t speak often and when he does he’s asking if we hear what he’s hearing, but we never do. I wish I could just tell him he’s alright, but he won’t hear me.
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