Every time, every fucking time I say no don't go there and you agree....but it all goes to shit....I saved the aim conversations and as you probably saw the last post was poetry.....this is a horrible sign for my mental health....in a month I'll be inconsolably crying. Go ahead and tell me it's defeatist but what proof do I have that I'm at all
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I'll tell mom.
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They are there...just like my classmates were in high school. I get infatuated with the ppl around me. You should know this first hand. Except ours is a different kind of love. The love that dare not speak it's surname. Laugh at that or I might die.
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