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You held your face in your hands, there on the couch, overtaken by an emotion that surprised you.
"Don't you know I know that this is my fault?"
You'd lost me. This was your tragic underdog tale and now your future looked bleak. Empty again, alone again. Two relationships in your adult life and both of them screaming at you from the graves that you're a failure. How disappointed your father sounded then on the phone, recognizing your charred tone, how worried he was about your well-being, defeated to the remaining marrow. Your hollow body crumpled before me.