Letter #7

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November 28th, 2013;  9:21 pm.

Dear Luke,

I don't really sleep anymore.  I get about an hour and a half every night, but it's filled with horrible nightmares, so I don't really count that as sleep.

I went out today.  People saw the bags around my eyes and my tear stained cheeks, and they moved around me, like I was infected with a highly contagious disease.  All I want is to look normal again.

I feel like I'm lost at sea and slowly drowning on the inside.  It's getting worse day by day.  

I don't know if I can get up and continue anymore.  I didn't think that you'd ever leave, especially the way you did.  I wasn't prepared for all of this to come back.  

"I thought you were my sunshine, with gleaming rays,

always bright in the darkest of days.

I thought you were my moonlight, with silver light,

always willing to help me win my fight.

But you were a lie,

and left me to die."

I wrote that, Luke.  Just for you.  I hope you like it.

-Ashley

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