thirty-seven

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{25th january 2013}

dear jen,

i hate it when thoughts you honestly thought you had succeeded in pushing to the back of your mind suddenly come back again, just as you let your guard down.

do you kind of know what i mean? maybe?

i wouldn't blame you if you didn't. a lot of the time i don't make sense at all.

like - if anyone else tried to hit me, i'd hit them back. but with samuel i can't and i don't even know why - i don't even know why he hits me, jen, i've never done anything to him, i swear to god.

didn't we get told when we were in class when we were about nine that the people who got picked on were the ones who were the loneliest?

i got told that, at least. before i moved here. a brit in new york - they still call me that. i'm kinda surprised they find that funny.

is it funny?

i don't get the joke. maybe it's an american thing. is it? i don't know. i'll have to get you to explain it for me one day.

i think i've kinda gone off topic, but what i mean to say is i do have friends. they're not imaginary or anything like that, because a lot of other people talk to them, including you - they're really popular, and i don't know why they're friends with me. liz was really popular too.

did that make me popular? does that make me popular now?

i don't know.

and i don't know why samuel lewis beats me up. and i don't know why i don't hit him back. and i don't think i know very much at all, jen.

this is another one of those letters that aren't ending up how i wanted them to - i hope you don't mind. they're all my thoughts, after all.

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