✉ Ripped paper fifteen

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Dear Sad Person You,

I'm officially sixteen! Now people won't consider me the little one of the class, at least. Well, yeah, most of them will turn seventeen in a few months but I'm okay with my age now. I can learn to drive now, so I can escape this shitty place on my own. Anyway, I still can't believe that the little ripped paper left on my desk this morning was yours. I'm still not over it. Why did you do this to me? I mean, you made me so happy when you wrote that to me, but when we meet it's like we don't know each other, and I'm okay with this, for the sake of God, but it's so hard for me to hide all I'd like to say and do. Those few words "Happy Birthday Phil" made my heart bump so hard. You called me Phil. I'm still near your locker. I'm waiting for you to come to talk to you about this all. I'm praying you won't kick me but at the same time that you come closer.
Yours sincerely,

-(Not at all) Sad Person Me

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