Irony.

I didn’t use to have a lot of confidence, not really high-esteemed. A lot of what I think or others think I have now, was not something that was evident to me. In fact, I thought I was the total opposite. 
For a start, I never knew I could write enough to save my life.

There were a lot of people I used to care about. Far too many. Too many not because they don’t deserve it, but because I spread myself too thin trying to please everyone. I believe to everyone I meet on every touchpoint, I was sincere and open. But how could I possibly be able to maintain so many precious friendships? I lost contact with some of them. 

At times, I really really miss them very very very much. 

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