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... ly consumed me, but something stopped me, a bitter mix of shame and realization of the fact that I hurt her, that I pushed her away, and now, she did not want anything to do with me.
I had no right to demand anything from her. Not after what I had done.
The frustration simmered just beneath my skin, fueled by both anger and regret. Regret for the years I had let slip by without finding her, and anger at myself for being the reason she had left in the first place.
My chest ...
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