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I think I'm over it. Or atleast nearing the tail end. I don't feel that anger so often. I don't really think about you as much. There's still a part of me that wants to hold a grudge. You don't really deserve my forgiveness. But I'm really tired of being scared all the time. Scared that you will come back. You've been this haunting that never ends. There were so many times when I should've just enjoyed myself, laughed, made friends. But instead I sat quietly, staring out that van window, thinking of the things that would happen if I dared to do so. You would come back, and tell them who I was supposed to be. Or maybe you would come back in their skin. More lies. More hurt. More knives.
I could never trust again. That's how it felt. And it still does. But god, I am so tired. Avoiding your name. Avoiding your face. Avoiding the memories. Maybe if I never told the stories, they'd just go away. But things like that don't go away. They shape you in a way you can never escape from. I will never be the same. I thought I could never make peace with that. But today, I'm starting to like the new me better than the old.
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