First Draft

“He’s a stupid bastard sometimes. I mean, he gets confused about what’s really important. Sometimes I think he knows me, other times I think we might as well be on different planets.

Look at him now, sitting there moping over some imagined failing on his part, like a great useless lump. Why can’t he see that whatever it is, it doesn’t fucking matter? I don’t want him to be perfect. Just happy. I mean, it’s kind of sweet and all, and it shows he cares, but for fuck’s sake!

Well bollocks to this. I want some fun. We’re going to the pub, if I have to drag him there.”

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