Now it's been years since we said our long goodbyes. I'm not any smarter. I just watched my first company go down in flames and I'm starting a new one. I have to talk to lawyers for bankruptcy in the mornings and lawyers for setting up a new firm in the second. And I know that if you were here, you'd be laughing at me and telling me what a sha gua I am for doing stupid shit twice in a row and expecting it to somehow work in the second time.
I look at the Hong Kong skyline that is my desktop background sometimes and I wonder how you're doing. If your 40-year-old engaged boss is still trying to finger you in the back of taxicabs, if you're still agonizing because you kinda like him but he's engaged and 15 years older than you. If you still want to webcam with me, even though we're both people that no longer hold each other in our hearts any more. If, when you send me those little heart-filled e-mail cards on my birthday, you really mean it.
Which pains me. But I still trust you. Because you were the one girl that liked me when I had nothing, so you're the one girl I can trust once I have everything.
And I am foolish. Maybe that's why I liked you. Because you were everything I never had, and so you became everything I ever wanted, and now you're everything I'm never going to get.
And the greatest tragedy of all: I wanted to make enough cash so that a smart girl like you would not have to degrade herself to the finance-world burnout [...]
But it all didn't work out, did it? You left too soon, I ended up with other girls that made me realize how... decent of a human being you were. That made me realize how much of a complete chump I myself am. And now I'm set back another two years, another two years farther away from holding you again, another two years closer to missing out on you for the second time, as you slip on a wedding ring to some jerkoff playboy while I type uselessly on an online forum twelve fucking time zones away