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a somnambular existence, and I lie to myself pretending to fake a smile and think that by tomorrow everything will be fine. I still hope it will… With Tom, there is no way to go wrong. He is my true love, my true destiny and all I can ever think about from now on. Gatsby was only a delusion which resulted of my blindness to see that the dreams I had were nothing more than dreams; imperfect and impossible in reality. A fantasy whose funeral occurred when I wasn´t even able to be present. I hope to see you sometime in
the near future,
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