My story is just like everyone else's:
I too fell in love. I too killed myself just to feel something other than this emotion. I too sought destruction just to feel something less vapid and bound by confusion. I too crawled the depths of despair with salty and arrogant tears, knowing full well my own insolence brought me here. I too walked a maudlin mile, questioning and answering, remembering and reasoning, dilapidated and sauntering and squandering the path of acceptance. I too lost the thread, unravelled the ball, let it roll uncontrolled down the hill without thought. I too traded good sense just to taste something virile and draped in smugness. I too fooled myself just to taste something other than quiet devotion. I too fell in love. My story is just like yours.
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