I recall that I began writing this diary because I thought I was about to die.

Now, it feels like I have died. Well, the largest part of me, anyway.

The cruelest twist of all is that, of course, I am still alive.

Revisiting what I saw in that mirror over and over in my head. Feeling every feeling of disgust, betrayal and grief again and again... feeling the life I had always dreamed of slip away.

Trapped in some kind of horrid cycle, wherein, I see it every time I shut my eyes.

That, truly, is a fate worse than death.

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