The problem isn't that I'm mad at you. I'm really not. I think there are reasons that I could be mad at you, but I've long sense disregarded those reasons, because you're family to me.
The problem is, I feel like there isn't a you anymore. I feel like your independence is dead. You're nearly seventeen and you're practically engaged.
That's fine. I respect that. But I have nothing in common with that. I scarcely have anything in common with you.
I love you.
But I'm still young. I'm still single. I'm still free. And I'm going to have my fun with my friends, and with my independence.
I don't envy you one bit.
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