At my core, I’m a fiction writer, but over the last three or so years, I’ve pretty well given up the struggle to even try to write anything fun because there’s just too much harsh reality going on around me. And so many lies….

So I’ve decided to write about how I feel and what I see.

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I have another fear. One I seldom think about. In fact, I try hard not to think about it. I even pretend it doesn’t exist. It’s the fear that there’s something missing in my life.

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I grew up believing in God, and knowing he was my best friend, but…. Because of my environment, a part of me felt that as long as I lived a “decent” life, without hurting other people or breaking laws, and as long as I went to church most Sundays, and read my Bible, and prayed,

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