“That night when you caught my reflection in the mirror,” I said. “When you said my name . . . the stone within me suffered a crack. And I don’t regret that it did, because I had forgotten how vital it is to be known for who you are, and not for who you pretend to be. I had forgotten how good it is to be seen, even with flaws and scars. I wanted you to see me. But I can’t risk it now. Not until the end comes. You are making it more difficult for me because I’ve grown fond of you, in the most impossible of ways.”
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