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May 2, 2017
She had started to believe that maybe there was hope. Just an irregular, faint gleaming that twinkled through the everyday beige of her life. Beige is not an unpleasant colour. She had a good life. With accomplishments aplenty, both personally and professionally, she felt secure and satisfied with who she was. Wanting something more though had made her feel, not needy, but certainly as if something was missing. Fun, was the easiest way she could describe it to her friends but fun would only temporarily fill the vague emptiness that she felt. And now she had allowed herself to hope.