Proofread.

Seeing you happy is all I’ve wanted for you.

And it isn’t that it hurts me, seeing you with her.

It’s the strange, unfamiliar feeling I get when you ask me for advice.

What should I say? Does this seem right? Is she interested?

It feels warped assisting you in building something that could have been ours.

But instead, the focus is on her.

I want to say run, forget this, love me.

But instead I will proofread your witty banter and watch you gain the happiness I’ve wanted for you all along.

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