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  • Writer's picturedale Hardy

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I know it's coming. Like tomorrow's bad mood. Like the eventual darkening of the sky, it is written. And it cannot be ignored and nor should it. And not because he'll lose his temper, which he will, and not because I'm scared of him, which I'm not. I won't ignore it because of me. I won't ignore it because I don't want to look like a fool and I don't want to look like I can't do it. Like I can't handle it. I can do it and I can handle it. But only just. Only because I have to. Only because I need to. Enjoying it would be heaven. It would be bliss. But the thought of this is alien. To enjoy it is an alien thought. Because I don't. I have admitted it to myself. Not to anyone else. To myself. But I can't let this one out of the bag. That would show weakness and they would see the crack. There is no way back from that one. It's my dark secret and I'll keep it hidden. But It's not my darkest. There is a lot they don't know. And they will never know because I will never tell them. They don't need to know. It's on a need to know basis. But it keeps me going. It gives me a lift. It helps in the hard times. And they are more frequent now. The hard times. There are few good times anymore. It's that time again........

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