You know, I bet it'd be really damn difficult to find two teenagers who could live in a house with a third for a number of weeks and fail to notice she was there.
Oh, Warren. I wasn't yelling at you. I'm uh, still a little boggled, I guess, that she didn't know who I was or who either of you were when she lived in the house for a month.
I don't even know. She's been there. It seems like she should have known better. I can appreciate the going into rescue someone, but not the--I don't know. The flippancy.
That's what got me. It wasn't - Shit, I can't leave this person there, anyone got advice? It was lalal, I'm going hunting. BIG fucking difference between rescue and hunting.
Sorry.
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I mean, I know I've been a shitty son and all but jesus fucking christ, I hadn't thought I'd been that bad.
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That's selfish of me. And I know it. But it's too hard to care. I'm too goddamn tired.
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Glad we aren't going to have to worry about that again. Even gladder... more glad? Something. Happy you're home and okay.
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