You are like a fish bone in my being.
Stubbornly lodged for a long, long time.
No amount of rice-balls I swallow can dislodge you.
Nor the amount of empathy can shake me out of it.
Over the years, I thought I'd tire of you.
And eventually you'd find your own way out.
It's been almost a decade now.
Yet you are still here somehow.
When will you ever leave?
Or will you ever leave at all?
Most importantly, do I want you to leave?
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