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Dear Keefe,

It's Sophie. This isn't a conventional method, I know, but I can't do anything else. I can't bear the thought of losing you. You were—are—my best friend, and I can't see you like this. I need to talk to you, see you're better. So I'm writing this letter (you would've liked it, it rhymes), hoping one day you'll read it and think you weren't so alone. I can't wait to hear those stupid jokes you always make, and see that smirk of yours brighten my day once again.

I know it must be hard for you in there, and I really hope nothing bad has happened, but I want you to know I'm always here. Even if I smell a little bad for not going to shower because I don't want to leave you. I'm here, and I'm never ever going to leave.

Can't wait to see you,

Sophie

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