I wasn’t getting what I needed, there’s no use papering over it. Maybe I would have, had I gone back, or if I had been different, or if everyone else had been different, or both, whatever. What difference does it make now? I found someone who loves me, and we have a nice life together. I found a good place — its not perfect, but evidently, it suits me. People can believe whatever they want, but if they can’t understand or appreciate that, well, that’s not my problem, is it?
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