fake.

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I just want you to hurt the way I hurt. I want you to wilt the way I did. I want you to shatter the way that I did. But what good would that cause me? I'll always be there at the end of the day, to pick up every broken piece that I wished upon you, and attempt to put it altogether as if I had the most pure intentions. I guess I can't stand seeing you happy with someone else.

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