Dearest Gentle Reader;

I love you, gods only knows why, as you test my patience. I don't know from call to call if it's just gonna be an friendly call, or.a manic one. I just want to get you to the 8th with your mind intact.
I cherish you - but I find myself starting to hold a little resentment, and I'm afraid to think that E could be right. The only reason you keep me around, is because I have a hard time telling you no when you ask for money. I hate reminding you, when I know you have none to pay me back with. But my own funds are tight now, and while I remind you of this fact you still wheedle more than pennies from me.
The thought that E could be right makes me sick, I'll be honest. I've put so much trust in the man I believe you to be. Don't let me down...

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