Jan,
Did it ever occur to you, January, that there is nothing you can't do?
Material possessions are inanimate. They couldn't care less what you did, or where you went.
Further, if the people that you love truly love you, they will not try and hold you down. And if they don't love you, what is the point anyways? Your love is not something that you should give away to people who do not deserve it.
Finally, prior commitments are only set in stone if you are loyal (and indeed, commited) enough to see them through - something that I never was (and still am not. I have not changed.)
I feel that loyalty is only beneficial to the person you are being loyal to.
Anyways, now that I have proved your reasons to be flimsy fabrications (a product of your fear of what is out there, which caused you to convince yourself that the benefits of staying put were greater than doing anything else) what will you do? That is the million dollar question, isn't it?
What will January Johnson do now?
Yours truly,
Pete
(I am sure that your poem was not shit. You have a way of shaping words that is odd, but oddly right. They fit in a way that is just so. My faith in your skill remains resolute, January.)
YOU ARE READING
Re: Pete
Короткий рассказ❝Roses have thorns, my dear, but so do you. ❞ In which Jan falls into an existential crisis, and Pete is there for her, if only in the form of words on her screen.
