(Warning: I’m too depressed to bother about grammatical mistakes.)
Dear friends, in the last week or so I’ve turned from a romantic hero into an almost-maniac. Sometimes, out of too much enthusiasm, out of too much passion, out of too much love, we lose our heads and say and do foolish things, we become bad versions of ourselves, automatons that make mistake after mistake and hurt the people we care about. I plead guilty. Overwhelmed by enthusiasm, thinking I had finally found the complicity of a romantic friendship, I became too insistent with my visits to the clinic and said and did foolish things, and to conclude, the blue-eyed nurse now frowns upon me.
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