“Relationships are messy, but that’s how you know they’re real. Blake and I have shown each other every ugly piece of ourselves and she still loves me. She loves me more for it, in fact. Sometimes you have to cut yourself open, Georgia, and you hold yourself so tightly.” “I have to.” I hate the way my voice breaks. “You think so, and I understand it,” she says. “You were shown that you weren’t allowed to need things that inconvenienced people, and you learned to make yourself smaller. But why can everyone else be messy and you can’t?” I look at the blurred shape of her, blinking as a tear
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