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Ping-Ponging

by J Doe

It’s like a ping pong game. I go back and forth. Sometimes I am hopeful and feel that this will pass and I’ll feel better and my feelings of uselessness will pass and I’ll be talking to her again. Then the ping. I feel hopeless and miserable and that I’ll never see or hear from her again. Then the pong. And I’m back to having hope. It’s tiring. I wish the game would end eventually. Somethings got to slip.

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