Here is a more troubling thought: Maybe Shattered Glass is right, and my memory has deceived me. Maybe this Steve is the real one. Maybe Steve was creepy in his insecurity; maybe he was constantly manipulating us emotionally, and maybe we were too stupid to notice. Maybe what I remember as his charm would seem noxious to me today. I don't know. I prefer my memory-bank Steve: It makes me feel slightly less a dupe.
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