The recent days have unfolded in an intriguing manner, to say the least. I have ventured into the realm of dating, desperately attempting to fill the void that incessantly gnaws at my soul. Alas, I have arrived at a profound realization: this arduous struggle may not be worth the sacrifice. Many claim that my decision is selfish, but can it not be deemed selfish for others to expect and demand my continued existence in a state of anguish and desolation? Henceforth, I have set a definitive date—the day I receive notifications of the finalization of my divorce.
Amidst the chorus of reassurances that time will heal all wounds, I find myself grappling with the relentless passage of time. The milestone of 52 years draws near, and the prospect of starting anew appears daunting and uninviting. Thus, instead of voicing my thoughts and intentions to those around me, I have resolved to retreat into the solitude of my own contemplation. No longer do I seek solace or aid; I simply yearn for liberation, for the shackles of my existence to be unfastened.
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