The intensity of his stare made me nervous. I didn’t want to talk about my life. If I started to remember, I would feel, and I didn’t want to feel. He tilted his head to the side, and waited patiently for me to respond.
Honesty, I reminded myself, and took a deep breath before laying it on him. “I tried really hard to make my life work, but somehow I always fell short of everyone’s expectations.”
He nodded as if he understood. “May I ask why you force yourself to wither in the contemporary, when you were clearly born to stand out?”
“Society, I guess.”
“Excuses,” he snapped, sounding irritated with my lame explanation.
“I like to please people, so crucify me!”
“Did you make it a habit to please people at the expense of your own happiness?”
“Sometimes,” I blustered, becoming aggravated. “What about you? You lost…
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