Page 1, The title explains

Why when I reach out, to pull you in close, to comfort you, do you brush my hand away? it is hard for me to be nice in this state I am in, to be loving and kind. I reach out with warmth and love, you respond with coldness and disgust.

I just wanted to to be, the big sister I'll never be. You could have let me pretend, and go behind my back, but I am glad that you, instead turned your head and told me out flat.

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