Timber

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Paul took a moment to stop reading the journal. His gaze fell on Timber and he sighed. "You write your emotions with a great deal of rawness."

"If I can't relay how I feel, then it eats me alive," Timber said softly. "Keep going."

"I would prefer not to," Paul said and handed Timber back the book. "I think I've seen enough to decide what to do next."

Frowning, Timber placed the book in his lap. "Okay..."

"You're far too critical of yourself, I hope you know," Paul said standing. "You claim to dislike perfection, yet you strive for it so much."

"I..."

"Given the things that have taken place in these past few days, I can't say I'm pleased with your actions. However, I know your heart is in the right place. Please, don't be perfect. I like you how you are." Paul gave him a smile. "I will be in touch."

Timber watched him leave the room, still clutching the journal tightly in his hands. There was still so much more he had to confess. Perhaps Paul was right, maybe he was being too hard on himself. Timber opened the book to reread the mess he'd created.

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