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One dollar.

I've finally picked out the title of the memoir that I will never write.

'This Will All Make Sense Some Day'

I'm still sick.
And when I'm sick, I get all nostalgic.
Although I'm married, and have been in a blinding relationship with my husband over the last 10 years, it feels like he is some long lost love that I yearn for. I mourn his non existence in this house.

Right now I just want to lay my head down in your lap. I want you to play with my hair.
I WANT SOMEONE TO TELL ME IT'S GOING TO BE OKAY, because it sure as fuck doesn't feel like it most of the damn time.

8:26 p.m. - 2012-12-01

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