Jill Alexander Essbaum

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Ghosts,

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Solitude was her anchor. A familiar misery, and anymore the safest, most sensible approach

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Even the loveliest shoulders can bear but so much

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No one is promised a tomorrow. She had been wrong about every man she loved or said she loved. She’d been wrong about everything. She’d entered into her life in the middle of its story. She had confused herself with the actress who portrayed her

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Shames the shadow of love she thought