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142

Shame washing over me as all the little bricks of my persona crumble to the ground. He will never look at me the way he did. It’s no wonder he changed.

“I thought maybe if we started at where you came from then we would have an idea of where you would go.” Alexi comes and sits beside me, slowly, carefully, as though he can sense how fragile I am feeling. So many things in my head drowning him out. I don’t care where he sits anymore. The real danger is facing me in a cardboard box that he has positioned back on the table. The past catching up to me once more, and I’m so terrified if I touch even one of those cruddy, mouldy covers that everything will turn to dust and I will never recover. I don’t want those memories back.

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