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I've come to realize that value is something that brings pain. To place all of one's compassion and love into something will only lead to sorrow, disappointment, depression. My words... the only thing that gives me meaning will be lost... has been lost and cannot be retrieved. I cannot save the thing I love. Then again I couldn't even save the one I love. Who am I in this lonely world? Now without meaning I stand in solitude... bitter and without remorse. Why bother and recreate what has been lost.