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The cat between us keeps silent. Dead or alive, nobody knows. There are times when we sweep things underneath just because it is easier and safer to do so.
We hide in the darkest basement possible, away from sources of natural light, so that life becomes quieter and more serene.
We try to love more, so as to be loved. We see clearly our lack and we soon become desperate for anything that fills the gap.
This desire to connect is real.
But it hurts. And it destroys.
