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They tried to catch a falling star.
Thinking that she had gone too far.
She did but kept it hidden well.
Until she cracked and then she fell.

If all the history is true.
She’s gonna end up just like you.
You made it to the other side.
But tell me who will be my guide?

They build you up so they can tear you down.
Trust the ocean you’ll never drown.
Who is next? Who’s gonna steal your crown?
You’ll see…

Northern Star, Mel C

If anyone still reads these pages, then it will be worth having written this.

I am sorry, sorry to the people whom I may have hurt or worried.

Please know that I did not intend to hurt you – my intentions were to help you, to save you from what I felt was going to happen.

One might feel that having accomplished the isolation that I craved, I would feel happy for once, ensconced in my own Folly.

But as I survey my ravaged Queendom, note the ashes of my bridges, I feel regret along with acceptance.

For what I had was precious, though I did not see that at the time. And though the ruining of my life was my choice, I almost feel that my hand was forced, that my control was illusionary at best.

And yet, I made choices, and must live with them. I see the updates of those who once counted me a friend on Facebook – they have moved on.

But if any of you chance to glance this way, please know that I am sorry.

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