I get up every morning and go to bed every night, with this feeling that something is missing, but I don’t know what and I don’t know why. This emptiness is just killing me, and I can’t do anything, not even cry.
I sometimes pretend to be happy, talking a lot and laughing out loud so that nobody would know what’s really inside. But at the end of the day, I always find myself all alone, encountering the crucial truth that I’m too broken inside that not even a million laughter can take it away.
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