Presence

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Everybody hates him. His presence makes it suffocating to speak. But I see something that they don't. It may be rare but his presence can be comforting. Maybe it's because I'm used to the suffocation but when I caught a glimpse of comfort I couldn't let go. It became an addiction. I was looking for something that wasn't there. Maybe it was. Maybe it was like the moon hiding beneath the clouds. Or maybe it was something I made up in my head to give myself a reason not to leave. His blows were harsh but not as hash as the sudden comfort he'd give the next day. I know they were right about him. I know I've attached myself to the same kind of person. I put my self in the same situation I did years ago. I try to convince myself I was gullible enough to fall for something like this again. But deep down I knew. I knew what type of person he was. I heard the rumours. I just wanted to hurt myself without picking up the knife.

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