In case anyone reads this or cares:
The counselor thinks I'm fine, frustratingly so, because I'm not sure I am. Maybe I'll keep that supposed last appointment and finally pull the cork off of all the things I've been bottling up inside.
I can't easily help that I make it so that to all the world--all unsuspecting eyes--I'm fine. It's easy to put on a smile and be happy when I'm around people that I don't trust enough, who simply don't know, or who aren't close enough to know better.
I should sleep before I make everything I've built up, cave in.
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