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His invitation lingers. So does my question. Why me? I don't know the answer. When I look at myself in the mirror, all I see is a starving, stunted bird who never grew wings and lost all reason to sing.
Julie Anne Peters
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Julie Anne Peters
Age: 72
Born: 1952
Born: January 16
Author
Engineer
Writer
Jamestown
New York
Never
Grew
Invitations
Question
Starving
Answers
Mirror
Lost
Mirrors
Doe
Wings
Reason
Sing
Stunted
Look
Bird
Lingers
Looks
Answer
Invitation
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I had to fight so hard not to cry.
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It was all about hate. There should be laws. We're there laws? Can you legislate against hatred?
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At times like this, I'm thankful I don't feel love.
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You would never understand, Kim. You think I'm normal you wish I was.
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You still have, I looked at my watch, twelve seconds to change your mind. Find someone else and save your reputation. One side of his lip cricked up. I found you. I'll take my chances.
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Like anyone cared where I was, or who I was.
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Cut the ending. Revise the script. The man of her dreams is a girl.
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Yeah, I loved her. I couldn't help it. She was my brother.
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I hear you. I just don't believe a word you say.
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Trust. That was what this was all about. If you can't trust the one you love, you don't have anything.
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Take it as a token. Because tomorrow when I go, I want you to believe friends are possible.
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Do what, Kim? Lead a normal life? Too late. Way too late.
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I want to tell them, Chip, Kim, there is no way to suicide-proof a person.
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I have no intent. I have no reason to live, that's all. When I'm gone, I don't want to be remembered.
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The sad truth is, they should never trust me.
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The truth remains. I was, and am, disgusted with myself.
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Secrets. I can't take then with me. If I do, when I go, when I arrive at my final destination, I'll be . . . impure.
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Yet, when we talked, when we were together, she seemed so familiar. Seemed to know who I was, where I was coming from. She knew me better than I knew myself, I think. She was easy to be with. And I wanted to be with her, like all the time.
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How does he do it? Live. With the fear of death every day. I don't fear death as much as I fear the thought of living.
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