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This time it’s different. I feel more numb than hurt. More angry even. It’s like the half second laughing gas effect. Everything goes really quiet in your head and you hear your own heartbeat. Just when that gets too lousy you’re chased back to reality.

How could I not be angry. I lived up to the person I thought I could never be. Only to find out what I’d have rather not known.

Anger lingering in blood spilled wounds. Each one, a reminder of a time the world made it impossible to fight. Each bruise a reminder of a time darkness felt eternal.

Everyone gets through though. We all do. Some barely make it. Others are dead inside by the time they make it. They do though. Because they have to.

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