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Dear Fred,
I almost threw this away as soon as I wrote it, but I knew I would do this again, I'm not ready to let you go. Writing this in a letter makes it easier, it makes me feel like after I sign it I'll have to run around and find Pig to send it to you, and have to wait for your reply. It doesn't make any sense that you won't reply, they you can't reply.
I think George is going to ask me to help with the business side of things, he's been struggling since you left, not only with basically everything but with work as well. He needs to work, he uses it as a distraction, but I can see that it hurts him. You guys started it together, you did it all together and now you're gone he has to do it by himself. And he cant. Well of course he can continue working by himself, but he doesn't want to. I don't want to go back to school so I think I will say yes if he asks, I will never be able to fill your shoes at the company you know that, I know that. You are, no were, one of the best, and you will always remain that way.
When did everything become so bloody hard? Every time I see anything in this house I remember you, I feel something rising up my throat and I can't breathe, I can almost see you, laughing or smirking, just being so alive. You can't not come back.
I remember everything in painful detail, and day by day I forget your smiles and your jokes and I see your limp body with the smirk frozen on your lips before your whole expression changed. It's not fair that we
Ron.
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