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the lake, glittering like fragments of broken glass. I smile, no longer thinking of the past with hatred, but with gratitude—gratitude that it shaped me, and gratitude that I became strong enough not to let it define me.
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the lake, glittering like fragments of broken glass. I smile, no longer thinking of the past with hatred, but with gratitude—gratitude that it shaped me, and gratitude that I became strong enough not to let it define me.
ADVERTISEMENT
ADVERTISEMENT