Damn...
To believe, that for a few days out of my life, I could be happy. But, like all things, it ends. I am most thoroughly disillusioned. I told Becca of my past a day or so ago, and now she seems to dislike me for it; it is either that or some other unknown reason. Why can no one see that I am different, that I am not the same pyscho that I once was?
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