So a few night ago, I was laying in bed and having one of those mental breakdowns you have when you lay in bed and think about everything that has ever happened in your life. I hate those moments. And in a burst of spontaneity, I wrote and sent a stupidly personal e-mail to Gabe Newell. I'm not sure if I regret it, as it is certainly how I feel, but I am very embarrassed about it. I like to keep my cards close to my chest. I barely ever outright show my emotions to ...
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