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You loved the fact that she stayed, even when you told her to go. Truth is, you were scared. Too scared to let her in, maybe it was because you felt vulnerable, or maybe it was because you had been hurt before. Even though she showed you time and time again that she was different, you chose to paint her with the same paint brush you used to paint the women of your past. You loved having her as arm candy, something to show off to your friends. You loved that more than you loved her.
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