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2015-12-08 - 4:20 a.m.

The pity party must end. Or at least temporarily stop.

About my birthday, that is. The self loathing is another story.


I can't be upset when I don't try to match my expectations with reality.

Although I thought it couldn't be lower, that's not true.

I did have hope and should that hope kills me when I set the trap myself, I am only to blame and be shamed.


But he texts, an hour after midnight.


"Hey, Happy Birthday.

I hope all is well is you."

I guess you remember when it is gone.


Thank you, anyways,


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