Letter #7

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Dear Anxiety,

Why must you torture me so? You love watching me suffer. I am fading. Each and every passing day, I am slowly turning into dust, and the wind will blow me away. One day, I will be no more. It is not fair, that you ruin me like this. Who the hell are you? Who gave you this kind of power? I never willingly gave you this huge part of me. I can barely pick myself up because there's so much missing. I want it back. I want me back. 

Sincerely,

Liz

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