Cancer runs in my family. My dad had it, my uncle died of it, my grandmother never lived past her daughter's 13th birthday because of it. In all likelihood, I, too, will one day probably be afflicted. When you have cancer, there is a massive increase in the number of cells in a certain portion of your body. The cells keep replicating and
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I almost cried because I did this too. I fell in love with him and then I had to cut him out slowly and every slice hurt and the stitching always unraveled and oh oh oh oh it's too late for metaphor. I loved him and he treated me like a doll. fancy dresses, a toy!
I once loved a girl. she treated me like a precious unicorn and then she stomped all over my face. we repeated this cycle. we repeated it until I got sick and I couldn't sleep or eat or wash my hair or laugh. do you how sad it is to not be able to laugh? you hack and you cut and you sever. at first, you feel like raw meat inside but that's because baby, there's no such thing a perfectly clean cut. the scar is there but that means that someone loved you once and then it went rotten. but the love was once there and that's worth all the diamond mines in the world, every gold wedding band in the Western hemisphere. do you see? you see. you know. we are healing, yes?
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i'm sorry such a thing happened to you, dear adrien! deepdeepdeepdeeeeep deep down, you know what you deserve (everything and anything good ever touched!); go get it.
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