Letter Twenty Nine

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Dear Journal,
I've been going to a therapist.
My parents just divorced,
Blaming each other for how I turned out.
Rosie it still dead.
My best friend left me and said he's come back when I stopped acting like a sad sac.
Yet my teachers,
My friends,
My family,
My everyone,
Expect me to be happy and perfect.
What do you guys want from me?! I have a life too! And I choose what I want to waste it on.
But wait. Mourning for the angel who came to Earth then left feeling unwanted, isn't wasting my life. It's called: having a heart
Sincerely,
Will

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