Are you superstitious?
I only ask because if you are, then maybe you can help me devise my future because of my birth....
I was conceived between two tumultuous people, both brilliant but insane....Both my parents were top bond brokers, both were terrible alcoholics ( though they both developed the problem at different points in their lives, not together.) My father was a bigamist, married to his first wife then married my mother....His first wife has the same initials as my mother...L.N.They were only married for six weeks. He is now happily married to his third wife...the initials are not the same.
My mother was in a coma at 17 because of a reaction to birth control, they belived she wouldn't be able to have children, She had my sister at 25...My sister was the mirical baby.When my mother was in her late twenties, after my sister was born; when she menstruated, she would bleed out...so her doctor gave her a pill to STOP her period...therefore she shouldn't get pregnant...she had a feeling she was....she went to her doctor, and he didn't believe her...he gave her 13 tests before he accepted she was pregnant with me. She said she prayed for a daughter so that she could name me after her mother who had died four years earlier. She got what she wanted. When she went into labor, two hours later I was in fetal distress, I had to be delivered via C-section and came out doped up and smiling, cord still around my neck...A little time after I was born, my mothers doctor commited suicide.
So...just alittle recap...
Conceived between two insane, business geniuses, one a bigamist, my mother was not supposed to have children, 13 pregnancy test, fetal distress, named after a dead woman( who was a saint and could do anything, I wish I could have met her.), and my mother's doctor commits suicide soon after my birth....
is that an omen?
Monday, March 30, 2009
Sunday, March 29, 2009
Slaughter.
I have been around Horses all my life...I started riding when I was four years old, I rode hunter jumpers. My father is a Thoroughbred racing trainer, has been for nearly thirty years, he was a leading rider before that, for fifteen years. Much to my dismay, I haven't been able to afford riding in some years. There is no way I can describe it perfectly to you, something gets lost in translation, no matter how many beautiful words I use. The feeling of being on the back of a sixteen hundred pound animal, capable of running forty miles an hour, and crushing your skull with a single kick to the head. Yet, he doesn't flinch when I put my hand to his velvet skinned nose. His black eyes stare into mine with complete vulnerability, and knowing as I put the bit into his mouth...I snitch the saddle tight and pull the stirrups to the right length for my legs. I grab the reins, put my foot in the stirrup, pull up and throw my other leg over to mount. He doesn't move, just turns his head to look at me...We're off, the long strides, his mane billowing in the flowing air, into a canter, then a gallop, up and over a five foot fence with ease....Like I said, I could never explain it perfectly.
Now, there is a reason for this lengthy rant about how much a treasure these creatures. They are not only a pleasurable hobby, but it is my families livelihood!
The U.S banned the slaughter of horses for human consumption in 2006, but it has not ended it. Mexico and Canada are now the top producers of horse meat, shipping it to Europe, especially France, and Italy...also Japan. "Buyers", go to auctions, or sales and try to buy as many horses as they can. In some cases trainers at the track will sell their losing horse to the buyer for a couple of hundred bucks. Buyers will sell them to "savers" but double or triple the price they brought them for which makes it hard to save them all. They then put them on a trailer and ship them across the border to the slaughter houses, where they are unloaded by the "killers". The horses are disposed of in a number of horrific ways. In some cases they are shot in the head with a whatever gun is around ( shooting practice if you will), or maybe a nail gun...though the horses have very thick skulls, so it may take three or four nails to put them down....In Mexico their favorite method is to herd a horse at a time into a small pen, take a knife and try and cut between the vertebra of the spine, in order to paralyze them...trouble is, the animal is scared, is constantly moving, so they will hack at it...it can take anywhere from ten minutes to an hour to put it out. The killers then "hook" the animal up, by literally taking a large hook and grab onto the leg, drawing the horse up and through the system. If the horse is still alive at this point, they wont be for long, seeing as how the killers have to "bleed" the animal, they cut the throat while the horse is hanging upside down and drain the animal of blood.
We have bought horses from the slaughter house that we turned into perfect show horses, and race horses. They have earned thousands of dollars for the people we have sold them too, or just been pleasure rides for their owners. We have bought the old and the young, foals at just a few days old are indiscriminately slaughtered too.
I am not a vegetarian, I am not apart of P.E.T.A, I think P.E.T.A is ridiculous and purely for those who love to be shocked and outraged, atleast as part of their fashion tip of the day. I believe in the majesty of horses, and the deliciousness of a stake. I would never eat cat or dog, but have heard that guinea pig is particularly nice when grilled in Peru. I have eaten frog, want to try snake, I think alligator taste like chicken, but I would never eat monkey, although I have heard that human meat is addictive. So I can hear the hypocrisy in many of my statements.
I don't expect anyone to understand why I find the slaughter of horses so terrible, but I still hope you might, then maybe we can stop it....completely.
Now, there is a reason for this lengthy rant about how much a treasure these creatures. They are not only a pleasurable hobby, but it is my families livelihood!
The U.S banned the slaughter of horses for human consumption in 2006, but it has not ended it. Mexico and Canada are now the top producers of horse meat, shipping it to Europe, especially France, and Italy...also Japan. "Buyers", go to auctions, or sales and try to buy as many horses as they can. In some cases trainers at the track will sell their losing horse to the buyer for a couple of hundred bucks. Buyers will sell them to "savers" but double or triple the price they brought them for which makes it hard to save them all. They then put them on a trailer and ship them across the border to the slaughter houses, where they are unloaded by the "killers". The horses are disposed of in a number of horrific ways. In some cases they are shot in the head with a whatever gun is around ( shooting practice if you will), or maybe a nail gun...though the horses have very thick skulls, so it may take three or four nails to put them down....In Mexico their favorite method is to herd a horse at a time into a small pen, take a knife and try and cut between the vertebra of the spine, in order to paralyze them...trouble is, the animal is scared, is constantly moving, so they will hack at it...it can take anywhere from ten minutes to an hour to put it out. The killers then "hook" the animal up, by literally taking a large hook and grab onto the leg, drawing the horse up and through the system. If the horse is still alive at this point, they wont be for long, seeing as how the killers have to "bleed" the animal, they cut the throat while the horse is hanging upside down and drain the animal of blood.
We have bought horses from the slaughter house that we turned into perfect show horses, and race horses. They have earned thousands of dollars for the people we have sold them too, or just been pleasure rides for their owners. We have bought the old and the young, foals at just a few days old are indiscriminately slaughtered too.
I am not a vegetarian, I am not apart of P.E.T.A, I think P.E.T.A is ridiculous and purely for those who love to be shocked and outraged, atleast as part of their fashion tip of the day. I believe in the majesty of horses, and the deliciousness of a stake. I would never eat cat or dog, but have heard that guinea pig is particularly nice when grilled in Peru. I have eaten frog, want to try snake, I think alligator taste like chicken, but I would never eat monkey, although I have heard that human meat is addictive. So I can hear the hypocrisy in many of my statements.
I don't expect anyone to understand why I find the slaughter of horses so terrible, but I still hope you might, then maybe we can stop it....completely.
Friday, March 20, 2009
Apparently I'm an endless Dissapointment
I just don't understand what they want...
When I have a job, I work too much and don't focus enough on school...
When I go to school there is just not enough hours, I took 15 and I have to get a job at the same time...wait they say you don't need to work...they want either or, they want both, back and forth all the time...they hate the way I do things, because I don't do it like they would have or have done it.
My mother took 30hrs and had two jobs, and made straight A's. I can't do that...I get burnt out.
My Dad didn't go to college, but he has an opinion on how I should be doing it.
They tell me to get the A's anyway I can, if I'm not making them get out of the class and do it again...so I did, I dropped a class that I was making a C and couldn't get above, now they are yelling at me, saying that they give me advice and I don't follow it so their not going to help anymore....They don't really help, they just advise, stand back, and watch me fuck up...then they yell, and scream and tier me down.
I'm just so tired...of feeling worthless.
When I have a job, I work too much and don't focus enough on school...
When I go to school there is just not enough hours, I took 15 and I have to get a job at the same time...wait they say you don't need to work...they want either or, they want both, back and forth all the time...they hate the way I do things, because I don't do it like they would have or have done it.
My mother took 30hrs and had two jobs, and made straight A's. I can't do that...I get burnt out.
My Dad didn't go to college, but he has an opinion on how I should be doing it.
They tell me to get the A's anyway I can, if I'm not making them get out of the class and do it again...so I did, I dropped a class that I was making a C and couldn't get above, now they are yelling at me, saying that they give me advice and I don't follow it so their not going to help anymore....They don't really help, they just advise, stand back, and watch me fuck up...then they yell, and scream and tier me down.
I'm just so tired...of feeling worthless.
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
The Sisters'
There is a long standing joke in the family, that the Witches of Eastwick were missing one....
There are four sisters in the family, each reminds me of the points on a compass, and the four elements.
My mother Linda reminds me of Earth: Grounded, nourishing,colorful,adapting, she is difficult to traverse but once you have you find an oasis of the heart. She is as strong as stone, but can be as easily pushed as sand through your fingers, long with standing, the foundation of home. She can erupt in anger and you better run for life, but the lava cools quickly and new ground is formed, treed carefully.
My aunt Janet reminds me of Fire: Intense, warm, glowing, she dances like the flame, and is charming to the moths of your mind, fleeting, flighty,constant like the sun, her happy personality calls to your inner child, and is missed when she is not near, like the sun in December. She can burn you when she is angry, but she will caress you soon after.
My aunt Rosalyn reminds me of Wind/Air: Breezy,calm, constantly moving maybe not from place to place but from thought to thought, whimsical, silent yet loud, she can be forceful, she can be coaxing,she has many colors, she is painted, she can be as violent as a tornado and blow you away, and then bring you right back to life with her laughter.
My aunt Norma-Jean (a.k.a Pokey) reminds me of Water: She moves to the currents of her body, as calming as falling rain on a lake at dawn, as terrifying and changing as the sea, she is like a river you never cross but settle near by, her emotions are as cycled as the tides pulled by the moon, the universal solvent, everything goes through her, dissipates, and yet is apart of her.
At one point or another they have to move, going far from and then coming close into one another, like the pulsing of a vein. My aunt Norma-Jean to the North, My aunt Janet to the west, My Mother to the east (really the south east put for the purpose of this descriptive I'm saying east ) My aunt Rosalyn to the south. Now they are moving closer again.
You can feel the energy around them when they are all together, and you just know...the possibilities for the impossible are just able to happen.
They are magic, terrifying, fascinating magic.
You may disagree with it, but you can't dispute it.
There are four sisters in the family, each reminds me of the points on a compass, and the four elements.
My mother Linda reminds me of Earth: Grounded, nourishing,colorful,adapti
My aunt Janet reminds me of Fire: Intense, warm, glowing, she dances like the flame, and is charming to the moths of your mind, fleeting, flighty,constant like the sun, her happy personality calls to your inner child, and is missed when she is not near, like the sun in December. She can burn you when she is angry, but she will caress you soon after.
My aunt Rosalyn reminds me of Wind/Air: Breezy,calm, constantly moving maybe not from place to place but from thought to thought, whimsical, silent yet loud, she can be forceful, she can be coaxing,she has many colors, she is painted, she can be as violent as a tornado and blow you away, and then bring you right back to life with her laughter.
My aunt Norma-Jean (a.k.a Pokey) reminds me of Water: She moves to the currents of her body, as calming as falling rain on a lake at dawn, as terrifying and changing as the sea, she is like a river you never cross but settle near by, her emotions are as cycled as the tides pulled by the moon, the universal solvent, everything goes through her, dissipates, and yet is apart of her.
At one point or another they have to move, going far from and then coming close into one another, like the pulsing of a vein. My aunt Norma-Jean to the North, My aunt Janet to the west, My Mother to the east (really the south east put for the purpose of this descriptive I'm saying east ) My aunt Rosalyn to the south. Now they are moving closer again.
You can feel the energy around them when they are all together, and you just know...the possibilities for the impossible are just able to happen.
They are magic, terrifying, fascinating magic.
You may disagree with it, but you can't dispute it.
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
I feel it, this verg of knowing my purpose.
I don't believe that everyone in the world was born to purpose, but each person has a chance for it.
I walk a paved path at the moment, but it is winding on to a dirt road unknown. I was born for something, I know something, but it is unknown to me. How confusing to live like this...I'm here, I'm here for something....so close to realizing it. I want it...to make a diffrence, to make a mark. I know it's big, I know it will be universal.
I will not fade into that good night, I will not let myself.
The histosy channel playing the background, reminding me of time.
I want to write a novel that changes the world, but so many story swim in mind, I have to pull them apart...
I don't believe that everyone in the world was born to purpose, but each person has a chance for it.
I walk a paved path at the moment, but it is winding on to a dirt road unknown. I was born for something, I know something, but it is unknown to me. How confusing to live like this...I'm here, I'm here for something....so close to realizing it. I want it...to make a diffrence, to make a mark. I know it's big, I know it will be universal.
I will not fade into that good night, I will not let myself.
The histosy channel playing the background, reminding me of time.
I want to write a novel that changes the world, but so many story swim in mind, I have to pull them apart...
Monday, March 16, 2009
Not so urgent, urgent care.
I waited nearly three months before my rational brain kicked in, and I had a very good friend usher me to the Memorial Urgent Care Center...I suppose that means it wasn't so urgent, if waited that long.
My throat had been quite the bother, my limp nods swollen, tonsils a massive red blob in the back of my mouth; which intern was putting pressure on an old problem, my left ear.
I was never really sick as a child. I had ear infections as a kid, but that was the only thing that ever was a medical constant. I never was bed ridden, had chicken pox and mumps at the same the time when I was a baby. I guess I was never sick for three very good reasons. One: I was too busy getting bruised. Two: I was busy eating. Three: I was asleep for a very large portion of my childhood.
Now I am distressed, why; if at anytime I had to be either one, couldn't I have been a sickly child and a healthy adult, rather than the reverse?
I now have a multitude of medical ailments, without proper diagnoses because I haven't the money or medical insurance ( which is a complete pain in the ass, and totally unfair...but I will wait another day to rant about that!) to see a doctor.
Walking into the cliche florescent lit, pale painted office; I went straight to the front desk and filled out a yellow paper form, asking the usual questions of date, age,SSN, and problem...being asked any question was a thoroughly embarrassing and painful process...you see, I couldn't swallow so I had to spit the constant accumulation of saliva out of my mouth in order to speak, and being a lady...I hate spitting, but the ordeal of swallowing was just too much pain throughout the day. In the case of the clinic I was just forced to bare it (without the grin, though lord knows I tried) I then waited for three hours to be seen by a nurse, who then ask me more questions.
I was told to sit and wait again. As I read Lolita by Nabokov, I was becoming worried, a sound started to infiltrate my thoughts, a curious crunching sound...A slight panic that my pain might have made me delusional, I then looked to my left...A very large black lady with a white shirt. speackled with flowers and pink jeans was munching on a cup of ice, as if it were to be her last meal. I quickly got up and moved, I didn't really care that she gave me a dirty look because I was already cursing her to an early grave.
Again my name was murderously called over the crowd and I was soon ushered to a back room. "So how are we feeling?" said the male nurse...you have got to be kidding, a series of slick remarks filled my mind, but seeing how speaking was just not my thing today, I settled for a short sarcastic response "Peachy." I sat on the bed offered and watch t.v for nearly half an hours time before the doctor finally came to see me.
What a bitch, she was condesending, rude, and above all very quick...She asked me what was wrong, and I told her, she told me everyone was ill and I probably had what they did. I understand that she may see nearly a hundred people a day, but I only she her...diagnose me, not everyone...thanks. Then this rude woman crammed a tongue depresser in my mouth and I began to cry...it fucking hurt! she said something I didn't hear, then told me a nurse would be in to give me a pain killer and antibiotics,gave me a blanket, turned and left...I gave her the finger as I wipped away my salty tears.
Now I don't know why or how, but bigits tend to show up in the most retared of places. This white guy in a baseball cap, who came in right behind me, laid on the bed diagonal from mine ( you could tell he was white trash)...I remember his name was Mildred (so help me God that was his name!) there was a spanish women opposite him with her daughter...granted it's kind of rude to answer your phone loudly in a clinic, but it's even more rude to bitch at the person for it,tell her you are too sick to listen to and I quot" A hispanic bitch on a goddanm phone!", and then proceed to threaten to have her ass kicked in the parking lot by making one simple phone call, but then ( and I nearly jumped off my bed a through open the curtain to yell at this guy when he said this:) "your mess'n with an American!" Are you fucking serious! but the woman was simplely prefect in her response"And what the hell do you think I am?! I AM AN AMERICAN!"
The nurse came in another half and hour latter, a very sweet dark haired women, with glasses, and a grandmotherly kind smile. Two very large needles in hand. Oh Jesus...she patted her hind end with a "yep that's where their going." kind of nod and I turned around and this time cried out of embaressment.
The pain killer came first, which caused more pain, and then the big gulp sized anitbiotic...good lord I hated my life at that moment. She patted me on the back and cooed over me as I laid back down in a fetal quit sob on the bed once more. Rocking from the pain I couldn't seem to make my muscles stop moving, but for a short time I fell asleep, and then woke again to sob some more. I had a bit of intuition (though I admit I really got up to walk out, thinking thats what I was supossed to do.) and began to put my sweater on then my shoes, got up from the bed and the nurse came in right then, alittle surpized. With Rx and pamfletes in hand, she told me what I really had (the bitchy Doctor told me to my face that she thought it was my annual flare up of strep...I knew it wasn't!) ready for it guys!? Ok...it's called a...Peritonsillar Abscess. Basically; and I'm sorry if you are eating, but my tonsil is a great big puss ball, which was caused by bacteria beign trapped by my new wisdom teeth that have been comeing in...guess now what I have to do...get them removed, and maybe my tonsils too!
I guess if you have to go into major debt (which I am already) it should be over medical bills rather than a car.
My throat had been quite the bother, my limp nods swollen, tonsils a massive red blob in the back of my mouth; which intern was putting pressure on an old problem, my left ear.
I was never really sick as a child. I had ear infections as a kid, but that was the only thing that ever was a medical constant. I never was bed ridden, had chicken pox and mumps at the same the time when I was a baby. I guess I was never sick for three very good reasons. One: I was too busy getting bruised. Two: I was busy eating. Three: I was asleep for a very large portion of my childhood.
Now I am distressed, why; if at anytime I had to be either one, couldn't I have been a sickly child and a healthy adult, rather than the reverse?
I now have a multitude of medical ailments, without proper diagnoses because I haven't the money or medical insurance ( which is a complete pain in the ass, and totally unfair...but I will wait another day to rant about that!) to see a doctor.
Walking into the cliche florescent lit, pale painted office; I went straight to the front desk and filled out a yellow paper form, asking the usual questions of date, age,SSN, and problem...being asked any question was a thoroughly embarrassing and painful process...you see, I couldn't swallow so I had to spit the constant accumulation of saliva out of my mouth in order to speak, and being a lady...I hate spitting, but the ordeal of swallowing was just too much pain throughout the day. In the case of the clinic I was just forced to bare it (without the grin, though lord knows I tried) I then waited for three hours to be seen by a nurse, who then ask me more questions.
I was told to sit and wait again. As I read Lolita by Nabokov, I was becoming worried, a sound started to infiltrate my thoughts, a curious crunching sound...A slight panic that my pain might have made me delusional, I then looked to my left...A very large black lady with a white shirt. speackled with flowers and pink jeans was munching on a cup of ice, as if it were to be her last meal. I quickly got up and moved, I didn't really care that she gave me a dirty look because I was already cursing her to an early grave.
Again my name was murderously called over the crowd and I was soon ushered to a back room. "So how are we feeling?" said the male nurse...you have got to be kidding, a series of slick remarks filled my mind, but seeing how speaking was just not my thing today, I settled for a short sarcastic response "Peachy." I sat on the bed offered and watch t.v for nearly half an hours time before the doctor finally came to see me.
What a bitch, she was condesending, rude, and above all very quick...She asked me what was wrong, and I told her, she told me everyone was ill and I probably had what they did. I understand that she may see nearly a hundred people a day, but I only she her...diagnose me, not everyone...thanks. Then this rude woman crammed a tongue depresser in my mouth and I began to cry...it fucking hurt! she said something I didn't hear, then told me a nurse would be in to give me a pain killer and antibiotics,gave me a blanket, turned and left...I gave her the finger as I wipped away my salty tears.
Now I don't know why or how, but bigits tend to show up in the most retared of places. This white guy in a baseball cap, who came in right behind me, laid on the bed diagonal from mine ( you could tell he was white trash)...I remember his name was Mildred (so help me God that was his name!) there was a spanish women opposite him with her daughter...granted it's kind of rude to answer your phone loudly in a clinic, but it's even more rude to bitch at the person for it,tell her you are too sick to listen to and I quot" A hispanic bitch on a goddanm phone!", and then proceed to threaten to have her ass kicked in the parking lot by making one simple phone call, but then ( and I nearly jumped off my bed a through open the curtain to yell at this guy when he said this:) "your mess'n with an American!" Are you fucking serious! but the woman was simplely prefect in her response"And what the hell do you think I am?! I AM AN AMERICAN!"
The nurse came in another half and hour latter, a very sweet dark haired women, with glasses, and a grandmotherly kind smile. Two very large needles in hand. Oh Jesus...she patted her hind end with a "yep that's where their going." kind of nod and I turned around and this time cried out of embaressment.
The pain killer came first, which caused more pain, and then the big gulp sized anitbiotic...good lord I hated my life at that moment. She patted me on the back and cooed over me as I laid back down in a fetal quit sob on the bed once more. Rocking from the pain I couldn't seem to make my muscles stop moving, but for a short time I fell asleep, and then woke again to sob some more. I had a bit of intuition (though I admit I really got up to walk out, thinking thats what I was supossed to do.) and began to put my sweater on then my shoes, got up from the bed and the nurse came in right then, alittle surpized. With Rx and pamfletes in hand, she told me what I really had (the bitchy Doctor told me to my face that she thought it was my annual flare up of strep...I knew it wasn't!) ready for it guys!? Ok...it's called a...Peritonsillar Abscess. Basically; and I'm sorry if you are eating, but my tonsil is a great big puss ball, which was caused by bacteria beign trapped by my new wisdom teeth that have been comeing in...guess now what I have to do...get them removed, and maybe my tonsils too!
I guess if you have to go into major debt (which I am already) it should be over medical bills rather than a car.
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
O Jesus...
Worry...
just too damn much of it.
I am supposed to be getting married...he proposed, and I accepted...my parents don't know...well my father knows but not my mom and dad...( I have a biological father and a dad, I know it's confusing.)
I went to New York for spring break, absolutely amazing! A city that truly felt like home the second I got off the plane.
I'm am not one to boast, I am actually a person with very low self esteem, but as of late I have been coming into my own, realizing I am somewhat attractive...but most importantly smart.
The thing is, I have so many things available to me that I can do...so many adventures that my age and looks afford me...I want to experience them, and I'm deathly afraid of making a poor decision...and I think I have made a premature one in getting engaged so soon.
I love him, he is actually my first love...but my greatest fear is not dieing...but not living! I don't want to fade away...I want to leave a mark, be remembered, make an impression on the world other then a carbon footprint. I want to be recognized...I have something to say...something in me that the world has to know...I feel it, I felt it since I was a child...I just don't know what it is...
there are so many things that complicate the puzzle that is my relationship. He is a broken person and by nature I try and fix broken people...I am afraid to every leave him even when I must because I am afraid that I am responsible for him....stupid as it is, I know that it's wrong but I can't help to feell at fault for what he might do to himslef in my apsents...this is were you say "run for life girl!" and my response is "I know, but I can't" with a heavy sigh " I love him."
just too damn much of it.
I am supposed to be getting married...he proposed, and I accepted...my parents don't know...well my father knows but not my mom and dad...( I have a biological father and a dad, I know it's confusing.)
I went to New York for spring break, absolutely amazing! A city that truly felt like home the second I got off the plane.
I'm am not one to boast, I am actually a person with very low self esteem, but as of late I have been coming into my own, realizing I am somewhat attractive...but most importantly smart.
The thing is, I have so many things available to me that I can do...so many adventures that my age and looks afford me...I want to experience them, and I'm deathly afraid of making a poor decision...and I think I have made a premature one in getting engaged so soon.
I love him, he is actually my first love...but my greatest fear is not dieing...but not living! I don't want to fade away...I want to leave a mark, be remembered, make an impression on the world other then a carbon footprint. I want to be recognized...I have something to say...something in me that the world has to know...I feel it, I felt it since I was a child...I just don't know what it is...
there are so many things that complicate the puzzle that is my relationship. He is a broken person and by nature I try and fix broken people...I am afraid to every leave him even when I must because I am afraid that I am responsible for him....stupid as it is, I know that it's wrong but I can't help to feell at fault for what he might do to himslef in my apsents...this is were you say "run for life girl!" and my response is "I know, but I can't" with a heavy sigh " I love him."
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