I just sobbed so hard and long that my noises became a little hiccup. I'm working so hard, but sometimes I feel like I'm an incredible fuck-up and all the progress I made is nothing. Tonight is one of those nights, where I'm tender and tear-bruised and feeling very small and very alone. I don't express this because I need or want pity. I
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(with apologies to Sting)
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At the least, I would sit here at my window, all night in my pajamas, keeping watch for you and with you and beeping back at you through the woods, all the way until dawn.
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