I do what all women do.
I think.
I blame myself.
I marinate in my failure.
I hate myself sometimes.
Sometimes I cry.
More often I stare at the ceiling and wonder what is wrong with me.
I think.
I blame myself.
I marinate in my failure.
I hate myself sometimes.
Sometimes I cry.
More often I stare at the ceiling and wonder what is wrong with me.
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