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I miss everything that I thought I would have.
Most of us deserve more than we allow ourselves to dare even dream of. But it's there. That hope for better. Even when I'm miserable and don't want it. The hope for better is there. And sometimes that hope stings, almost like it's taunting me.
Why I can't let go of things I don't have and was apparently never meant to is beyond me.
I really just want to be happy and have peace. Why does that seem impossible?
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