The answer is six and a half years. I was exported once, when I was twelve, and on my end it was for a single day. On this end, maybe two weeks passed at the most. There is nobody who's been around longer than me. The only ones with a comparable time-frame are middle-aged men at varying saturations of asshole.
It absolutely lessens the importance of having them, when not a single one lasts.
"Who I am" isn't exactly an existence to aspire to. If it's the friendships I've made that made me this way, then I shouldn't have made them in the first place.
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The answer is six and a half years. I was exported once, when I was twelve, and on my end it was for a single day. On this end, maybe two weeks passed at the most. There is nobody who's been around longer than me. The only ones with a comparable time-frame are middle-aged men at varying saturations of asshole.
It absolutely lessens the importance of having them, when not a single one lasts.
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But you are who you are because of them. That's pretty darn important.
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Not quite what I was getting at. What, there's nothing good you can point to that came from someone else?
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Not really, no.
[ Getting her to acknowledge that there's anything good about her period is a struggle. ]
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