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Dear K,
I see the whispers in the hallways. All your friends look at me like I'm the fucking devil incarnate. I'm sorry if I broke your heart, but you can't be mad at me for moving on. you said you cared about me, but now all you do is whisper about how I'm a slut. You say my life is perfect, you say I've never been hurt. It took years of family Therapy to fix my life. I've watched my friend's get kicked out, and put on the streets.ive watched other friends die, as I desperately tried to help. Ive seen My cousin is following in the footsteps of her crack head mother and im stuck on another fucking continent. I can only talk to her once a month on the phone because the foster system doesn't want us to speak. Just because my parents are working hard to be better people doesn't mean my life is perfect. The thing is, I move on I don't get caught up in my past and I don't rely on the pity of others. Shit has happened to me, but I actually try to make my life better. I want to get better ; I'm moving on and I think you should too.
Bye,
L
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