Let-s-not-stay-friends Review

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Elias stood up and pulled his coat from the back of the chair. He didn’t wait for Mark to respond. He knew if he stayed, the resolve would crumble. He knew the pull of familiarity was a powerful, dangerous thing.

We can still be friends, Mark said. His voice was hopeful, the kind of hope that felt like a heavy blanket on a humid day. I mean, we know each other better than anyone. It would be a waste to just… stop. let-s-not-stay-friends

Mark looked down at his coffee. I don’t want to lose you entirely.

You already lost the part of me that matters most, Elias said. Staying friends is just keeping the ghost of us in the room. It’s a polite way of dragging out the funeral. I’d rather remember us as we were than watch us turn into two people who are careful about what they say to each other. Shift the (e

If you'd like to adjust the tone or direction of this story, let me know: Change the (e.g., first-person from Mark's perspective)

I am hurt, Elias admitted, leaning forward. But that’s not why. If we stay friends, I’m going to call you when I have a bad day. I’m going to want to tell you about the promotion I might get, or the weird dream I had last night. And you’ll listen, because you’re a good person. So? Mark asked. That’s what friends do. He knew the pull of familiarity was a

The silence that followed wasn't the comfortable kind they were used to. It was sharp and jagged. Mark leaned back, his brow furrowed. You don’t mean that. You’re just hurt.