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I’m at a difficult point in my life.
Nobody truly knows me.
My parents know me as much as they possibly could.
My friends also.
I’m not sure when life became depressing and sad and unfulfilling and empty.
Was it ever full?
Is a happy childhood real happiness?
It’s definitely not lasting.
Just like the gym, the second I stop I start to deteriorate.
And all this makes me doubt me and you.
This inconsistence is not something I want to burden you or our kids with.
Maybe I shouldn’t meet you.
I don’t want to hurt you.
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