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That's what made me write this down now — figuring out that she's not dead. It's her looking back at me women out of the eyes of these women sad, angry, grateful, suspicious men I keep finding. Life is but a dream I like somebody else's weight on me. It feels like I have a body: theirs in mine. Then it's over and I'm lost and floating again. Before I discovered men, I was only floating, all the time. women When I was in third grade, my teacher sent me on an errand from the classroom to the cafeteria, less than a hundred feet away. She found me an hour later, huddled in a corner, crying and disoriented. Unusually caring and perceptive, this teacher added that incident to some other vague symptoms she'd noted — I'd lost weight (though there really wasn't any to lose) and lost an unusual number of things (three sweaters in one week!)
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