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Dear CRANK Mob,
There is a pressure on my chest when I think of you. Not the overwhelming pressure of the loss of a loved one but a nervous feeling like Iím in love and the future is uncertain. I think of you often. I keep notes on how I might dress or act to impress you even though I know you will be most impressed by me being myself. When Iím with you I feel beautiful in my body. Your presence takes me somewhere magical and I feel like I might never return to the world in witch I had begun my day.