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A sigh of relief. A smile…as I release him. For so long I was afraid of not feeling that old reckless love of ours. A love so breathtaking, yet so damaging that for many moons, I was content to sit still on the curb of my mind, reminiscing – alone. He’s been gone, I mean BEEN gone, yet I was stranded in this “place” that had long been covered with the dust and musty nothingness of my memories. Have you ever replayed the good parts over and over again so much, that the bad parts became lie to a twisted universal truth? Church clap, indeed.

from The Ballad of A Real Black Girl

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