I am a survivor. Though I do not entirely feel like it. I did live through the first period of 24 nonchocolatic hours since I started eating the dark Belgian gold agian. But plan MHM has miserably failed. I can't hate every single man. Let alone hate him that I am unsure about. I merely want to be loved.
Merely.
As if to love was nothing. And asking as much, without knowing for sure that I'll ever love him (back).
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