Do you know what happens when you keep too many secrets? There comes a time when you can not breathe. That happens to me. Twenty years I've been keeping secrets, dying because of them, suffering every day. Longing to live a normal life, without thinking that I can not be like the others, I can not be happy. The sadness you feel when you read my fics, that's me, that sentence without truce, the perennial disease, despair that has no end. That anxiety you feel, the pain lasts you a few moments, my whole life, every day, every hour, every second. I evaded writing, playing evaded me, I evaded containing air, and I can not anymore. I reached a point where I have only two ways: either get out of this well or kill me.
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