Dear Being Erica: I still love you the most. But I still can't think about you. I try and I cry. Just like my dog, who is dead. I dreamt about him the other night. I was sobbing so hard in dream-land, and woke up sobbing so hard in real-land, and I couldn't stop. I'm thinking, with love, around you both.
So while this feels like a betrayal, I hope
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