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One of the most difficult virtues I lack in preserving it's essence is the paramount relationship between acceptance and letting go. I've dealt with a vague notion of keeping my heart cemented with a concrete wall of teenage relationships, without venturing beyond the closeted hallway of love.  I found writing eventually, or perhaps, it has found me. Having stuck to the tussle between my highs and lows amid nothing as static as what I thought love was, I couldn't essentially incorporate it's otherwise portrayal.  'Transfiguration, a stroll down the rugged terrain of life' isn't just an overused link between the sanctity of deploying your heart to someone else and yourself, but a slow and steady breed of an individual through the uncharted enclave of first loves, heartbreaks, kisses, hookups, sex, realizations, self esteem and the merry-go-round days; pungent in taste, evoking a keen sense of regret. Nonetheless, transfiguration is a phase of grow

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