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On the next day, I ask grandpa to take me to the hospital earlier. I decide that if I can have some extra time, maybe I can work more and have more free time with Jacob later. I don't think anyone has noticed that I spent too much time in the toilets. Still, I have to be careful. My parents can't know that I've met someone. They will shove me into a cellar and I will never see anybody ever again.

In the morning, I push myself so hard, I have the feeling that I've learnt all that I need to graduate from high school. I need to do this. I want to do this. If I succeed, I will proceed to learn new things and finally fully focus on myself instead of what everybody else wants for me. I know that my grandpa probably wants me to follow in his footsteps because of me being interested in genetics. If he knew the truth, he would be disappointed.

But I don't care.

I don't care if I disappoint anyone anymore.

That doesn't mean I am ready to tell my family about Jacob.

There is something, called "fear" that prevents us from living the way we think we deserve to do so. And without it, life won't be the same. Fear is good. Fear has challenged me. Challenge is good too.

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