My anger gets the best of me each day passes. It’s either I fucking love you or I fucking hate you. And I hate you, but I love you and it hurts. Hating is so much work, but so is loving. I wish it would work out, I wish I would learn, I wish… I never left.
I’m stupid on account of many things.
I don’t know what I’m doing half the time, and the other time I wish i would have done better. I’m angry, because I couldn’t do right.
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