September 5

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I know how hard I am to love, believe me, I know

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I know how hard I am to love, believe me, I know. I am the unwanted child. I am defensive. I take things too personally. I come off as rude and unapproachable. I don't trust anyone, which makes it hard to bond. I over think.

But I'm insecure. Underneath, I am just broken, and I ache for someone to see me. 

Every word I throw at someone is really a plea.

So when I love, I love with everything I've got. I loved you.

I trusted you.

How did you do it? How did you make me let you in?

How could you see me in all of its damaged, bruised glory and still leave me?

How could you see me in all of its damaged, bruised glory and still leave me?

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