When did I start to hate the weekends? I feel so fake. Most of the time, I can hide at home and believe it’s all over but on the weekends we go out. I hate the idea that people will see us together and think that we are together. I try to be apart, keep a distance but it doesn’t always work. I feel so trapped, so constrained, a victim of my own making.

Trying to find the balance between what makes me happy and what doesn’t make everyone else miserable is difficult. Far easier for me to be miserable.

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