It was years ago now, when the doorbell rang and I dragged my weary, wounded self to open it, my eyes perpetually aching from tears that I could not seem to stop.

I felt destroyed, demolished.  As if a mack truck, driven by a team of people I loved and trusted, had run over me without a thought and as I lay mangled in the intersection folks walked by, happy and oblivious to the damage they had passively assented to.

I was exhausted, and lonely, and tired of battling despair.

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