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One thousand eight hundred twenty five days, Five whole years I left you, Five whole years I was gone, you still give me the same praise.
Dear 13-year-old Juliana, Things will get better. Slowly but surely, you will discover that you have anxiety, Which explains why you are the way you are.
purple marks and crimson welts. what does it feel to be hit with a belt? emotional pain and ear-pounding shouts. why wouldn't you push him out? i have a small question, what it is like without affection?
Why must pain be my motivation? Learning lessons from heartache and devastation I grow wiser from each past relation The good always experiences the bad Why do optimist appear happy but feel sad?