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Some days, some moments of those some days I believe I’m pretty and I can find love and I’m worthy and it’s his loss not mine or their loss rather:

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And then a moment later I realise it’s my loss and I might not be worthy at all.
I might not be worthy or valuable. What if I’m wrong and I’m not worthy of love at all.
And I can’t control this.
I keep fighting it off, I try until I find a way to believe I’m enough. Until I find my way home

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