3 percent taken care of

He's gone. Not a surprise I guess, but still somewhat of a shock. A few days ago I filled the world (and by world I mean my half a dozen or so readers out there) in on this unfolding story. And today when I logged into the Good Reads account he was gone. My tiny little friend list had dwindled down to one less. The message I sent deleted from my outbox. Like it never even happened. If I hadn't blogged it, I might even believe that it didn't exist. And now I sit here and I can feel that damned 3 percent from before swell within me. It expands to fill me from top to bottom, it's leaking out my fingertips as I type. Why? Why do I care, what did I do, why can I know not stop thinking about it? Where does this feeling like I am 13 years old and just got laughed at as I stand in the corner of the spring dance come from god damn it?

Well at least now my friends that I know were worried that the 3 percent from before would overrule any good sense I had can be assured that I will make no mistakes down that road anymore. I think I'm going to go smoke now.