Catharsis Comes From Letting Go.

I have a right to repression. If I believe what I feel inside isn't true, if I can doubt myself to the point of becoming a separate embodiment to my own anxiety then surely I can stay with you one more night. It's hard to make the right judgement, but the distinction has already become too blurred to conclude what is right for myself. I don't want to let go. So I won't. They say catharsis comes from letting go, that I'll be happier freed from my mental prison. Yet I've found catharsis from unusual places; too strange to assume I could locate it somewhere normal. Seeing suffering can be cathartic. It reminds you that you aren't the only one. Just as loving you can bring cathexis. And that is why I'm on the fence. You may have imprisoned me, but I chose to be locked in.

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