Tonight I feel young. Young and real dumb, like I've been trying too hard to be better than I am, and when I see what I've done I just look stupid. Thru someone else's eyes, it's not a surprise, that I look this stupid. And I feel menial and mad at myself for letting me go and worrying so much and resorting to a machine that doesn't love me back to
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if you didnt love the way you did, i wouldnt believe that love so strong could exist. you inspire my romanticism.
and believe me, figgy, you and i seem to think too much alike.
i know you dont want sympathy, but i do think you are too hard on yourself. you are breanna mother freaking powell and ive never met a person to say they didnt fall in love with your compassion. i know i did.
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