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You want the truth? You can't handle the truth!!
The awesome life of someone in the helping profession...and stuff.
Why? Because, just like continuing my relationship with Raul, it is absolutely liberating and it is good for me.

Looking back at my past entries I wonder just how much maturity occurs within the span of 6 months, because, damn; I sounded pretty stupid. Or maybe I was just feeling angry and it hurt my ego.

Although Raul and I have had our fair share of fights and arguments and differences (HUGE differences), we have always ended up getting back together to fix up the mess left behind. Sometimes it works, at times it doesn't and some issues have to be revisited. But similar to setting unrealistically high expectations and setting yourself up for failure, one cannot also expect immediate change to occur. And change hasn't occurred immediately, but it has.

So after another fight last night caused by yours truly, I sought counseling.

I don't want to excuse my behaviors towards Raul by blaming my job or my high stress level, but I can't say that I was functioning very well anymore. I was bad. I felt so bad about myself to the point of feeling sick, physically and mentally exhausted.

And I also did something terrible, which I didn't even tell my therapist about. But maybe that needed to happen, and keep to myself, in order for me to realize just what new lows I had reached. I snuck into my boyfriend's laptop and was able to extract his facebook and email passwords with the help of Inspect Element on firefox and watching a youtube video. So now that I had his password, I had been driving myself nuts logging on and off repeatedly into his facebook and personal email account. I found a few emails, one sent and three received, from his girl buddy Elizabeth, which of course, infuriated me. It infuriated me because according to Raul, he had stopped all contact with this woman both through facebook and email when I made it clear to him that I just didn't like her. The emails sent between them were completely harmless and friendly in every aspect. Nothing threatening in the least; just two good friends catching up. She asked how he has been, asked about me, said she missed her friend, and he wrote back a few months later asking about her baby and how things have been in general. BUT. I was infuriated because he had LIED to me about not contacting her anymore. And there it was, an email written just for her, from Monday September 16th 2013, during his work hours. So I was up all night Saturday straight into Sunday morning reading his inbox. My mood changed suddenly with him when I was still at his house on Sunday morning, and he didn't even know why. My sour mood worsened as the week went by since I had found out about the emails during the week. He was confused and had no idea why the hell I was suddenly questioning his loyalty to me and asking whether he had contacted Elizabeth in any way. I did become completely irate when he said that he had not had any contact whatsoever with Eliza since I had told him that it bothered me. I mean, to me, it felt like he was taking a dump on my face. He was LYING to me and I KNEW IT. I am still slightly bothered by what an amazingly good job he did on lying, which was concerning, but now I give him the benefit of the doubt as he probably preferred to salvage whatever was left of our current relationship.
But it bothered me and I let him know I was upset, but he still didn't know what triggered the sudden anger and accusations of infidelity. I obviously was not going to tell him that I got his email password and saw the emails. What I did realize after that little act of desperation though, and the fact that I didn't see anything odd or harmful in his emails or FB inbox, was that I was surely guaranteeing the end of my relationship with a perfectly good man, albeit, a wee bit of a white liar (because the reality was, there was NOTHING in any of his messages that would indicate he was cheating. Not even flirting.) For the lack of a confession, in his defense, I would be terrified of me too at the emotional state I was in. So after last night's mess and the self-induced psychological torture that I had put myself through for the past 2 weeks, including work-related stressors and an eye-opening talk with my clinical supervisor on Tuesday, I decided that I needed help. I looked for my old professor's wife's private clinic and set up an appointment. And here I am now.
I was very skeptical when the session began to take swing. Or looked like it started taking swing. My therapist was allowing me to to all of the talking, which is what therapy is supposed to be, I guess. Or maybe this is what therapy should look like when it is conducted with a willing client, like myself. I would find myself forced to continue talking when there were moments of silence, or maybe I looked pensive and like I wanted to say something, and my therapist was mindful and experienced enough to not allow moments to silence to feel uncomfortable to her. But she did allow me to do most of the exploring and the work by myself. She did make a recommendation that I begin exercising, which is something I know is good for me but have been putting off because I have absolutely learned to aborr it. Another homework assignment was to tell Raul how much he meant to me, and to let him know the positive qualities that I had in my mind about him, but I wasn't saying to him directly. The therapist also recommended, after I told her about my job burnout and the possibility of slight depression, that I take a break. So, a weekend getaway in La Jolla, which sounded absolutely lovely. So, she helped me come up with a list of coping skills that could help lift the negativity that had overtaken my life recently: taking up exercise, blogging, expressing to my partner the good qualities about him, and taking that trip to La Jolla. That was in addition to the cognitive behavior therapy that she recommended, such as thought stopping and thought replacement. In a sense, "push the negative out." It helps tremendously, when one follows the instructions. I wrote en email to him right after leaving the session. My boyfriend responded back, touched, expressing how much more secure he felt after reading my email, how much he loved me and to not worry about it. So that was that. And right now, things are better, and I realized that, wow.... I have the most amazing, most understanding, loving, dedicated, loyal partner in the world... and I was about to willingly destroy that, because of my personal frustrations, unfounded insecurities and feelings of inadequacy. I chose to be happy at that moment, when I listed how many wonderful things I have in my life, and how I have been dwelling so much on the negative that it drowned out any happy moments in my life.

I just have to face it. He is the one and my everything... I realize that I CAN'T set expectations for him and not tell him, and I can't look for something incriminating when there is nothing.

I suppose that explains why I feel a burst of happiness when I see his messages or an email from him, and why weekends hold such a high level of bliss and happiness. It's because I am with him, and he has done just about everything to make me feel safe, loved, and happy.. and THAT, there IS proof of. :)
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We are back together again. I responded on Sunday to the inbox he sent me Friday and I told him that I missed him too (oh no!) He responded very casually, chatted on about working (agriculture) and having breakfast at home. My initial thought was "FUCK YOU" and a calm response addressing the message from Friday led to us meeting to get back together. Stabucks is becoming the "relationship break-up/make-up center" for me. Every break-up has happened at a Starbucks. Stabucks is love and comfort. But anyhow, he came and picked me up this weekend and we went out. It was all good and normal. Not much. Then he mentioned the forbidden name (Eliza) that I have secretly continued to aborr since day 1, when "She Who Shall Not Be Named" left a very questionable comment on a picture of me and him at the beach ("You look so happy friend. I miss talking. I really need to talk...") Yeah, shit that like don't happen around ME. So we talked about THAT past incident and things were cleared. I voiced my EXTREME uncomfortableness with that comment and he erased it from his profile and sent her in inbox on setting boundaries. Because I do LOVE MY BOUNDARIES. Nobody gets in my bubble, and anyone will hear about it. Anyway.

I was okay with him continuing to exchange messages every once in a while because things were cleared out (plus the chick lives in LA and is married and has a baby). So no worries, I stopped caring altogether about it, but this girl had still left a very bitter aftertaste. I guess I learned from then on to just not like her existence since then, when I was bored enough to remember her or when Raul mentioned her (i.e., her asking him about me, how we've been, etc.). Her name came up maybe one time after I cleared the air about how her comment made me feel, and that was so that Raul could tell me how apologetic she had been about causing any problems. So.

Saturday rolls around and he tells me that "Eliza" had sent him an inbox telling him about her health problems. As per his reporting to me, she contacted him to tell him that she had a tumor in her uterus and the doctors did not know whether it was cancerous, and that it was going to be taken out. Well, that pretty much scratched the record and all dinner ambiance we had going. I love cancer talk, especially about people I honestly don't care for, much less this person. The first thing on my mind was "Wow, this is serious stuff, are they such good pals that she confides in him and seeks him out whenever she has huge problems?" I noticed that he noticed that the mere mentioning of her name, and my very evident outwards look of sheer apathy, made the shit hit the fan. So then he tried making a recovery move by telling me that this seemes to be very common with women. He then makes another recovery move by saying that his coworkers and some acquaintances have suffered through some cysts too. I contribute and name one of my friends that have had a cyst removed and one had one ovarie removed due to risk of cancer. He nods and there is a very lengthy time of silence. I don't speak anymore, and he makes another recovery attempt by asking how MY friend is. I tell him, "she's fine." The silence continues and I continue to feel incredibly uncomfortable. He detects this right away. He picks up the bill and we leave. He asks me again in the car whether something he said had made me uncomfortable, so I ask what the purpose was of him telling me about ther health condition of this friend, whom was the very cause of turmoil in the past because of a very misleading comment made on facebook. His response is that he apologized for telling me that his "dear" friend had cancer and tat it made me feel uncomfortable. He said he told me because it made him feel sad, and he wanted to open up to me about these things. I address to him whether he had told me because he truly cared about his close friend and it made him sad and he really wanted to talk, or if he told me to avoid any problems IF I were ever to find out that she had contacted him again. He then went on about how she wasn't even a close friend and that she was the one making contact and continuing to send HIM messages. I asked him why she seemed to outreach only him when she wanted to talk about intimate problems, particularly if he didn't even consider her to be a good or a close friend (although he had clearly contradicted himself when he said that the cancer news saddened him, but then went back and said that he just told her "that's too bad" and "ignored" it). He said he didn't know why she sought out to him and said that he would block her and stop the friendship if it meant not having any problems in our relationship. He was still bent on the whole "you think it's bad that she contacted me to tell me she has cancer?" WTF?? using the whole cancer thing is a quick-fix ditch it way to guilt-trip someone into submission. Fuck you, you know that woman continues to hve SERIOUS issues with boundaries and God only knows whether her husband knows she confides intimate fucking issues with some guy who considers the friendship to be one-sided and who says that "I hardly speak to her".
But then I asked myself, is her one-sided frienship really so important to her that she would go as far as to CALL him to ask why she blocked him off facebook? Why was he so uncomfortable with the notion that his common friends with her noticed that he unfriended her from facebook?
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And I also realized that the weekends will be the most difficult for me to get past because these were the days I would drive up to see him. I swear I felt a lump growing in my throat as the work day ended and the weekend started. The feeling of loneliness has never been more palpable than it feels right now.

I hate facebook with a passion. It's grown to be such a bitter thing to me over the course of the relationship and even more so right now because I continue to see him through there. I'm tempted to block him. I did opt to stop receiving notifications from him. I feel dropping him altogether will seem childish and pathetic. More pathetic than I am now? Yes. Apparently he hasn't abandoned FB because he updated his status today as being in Tijuana for work-related training. I was trown by that and couldn't help but wonder if this was a reciprocation for me updating my own profile, and being included in a check-in today with my grad school ex-classmates. In other words, I was out there having fun with people and he felt the need to update his own status with being out of town. He never bothered to update anything from anywhere when we were together. I guessed this must have been a jab which translated to an anything-you-can-do-I-can-do-better attitude. I was glad to see that he was alive, because after that night I never heard anything from him.

I still feel pathetic. In between self-pity and loneliness my mind wanders to the future and I wonder if he'll find someone that he loves and is perfectly compatible with him. Speaks flawless Spanish, lives in Mexicali also, is thinner and prettier (but the 30's are visible on the skin and face, so it gets tougher to be pretty in your 30's) is closer to his age and more mature. That would be ideal for him. I keep thinking that he THOUGHT he was in love with me and he just hasnt given himself the opportunity to really meet someone else that is more up his alley. People in their 30's are done with drinking and other shenanigans like spending money on clubs and booze and trips. People in their 30's are, from my experience from dating one, ready to throw in the towel on their eras of nights out on the town. They say that "tonight" they feel more like staying in, bundled up and cozy under the blankets watching netflix. They have lived and are content to start nesting in, happy to let life outside of their nest go on without them. It feels a little like death. Death of youth and death of all that was fun and loud and glitzy and glamorous. I'm not ready to date a 30-year-old who stays in to watch television all weekend. I'm not ready to feel shut in and restless when I'm not done exploring what's out there, be it to the local club and bar or accross the pond into another country. I'm not ready to jail myself in to a wedding and a house, and start saving up to be a missus instead of saving up to go to Paris or London. I have been waiting, literally, a lifetime for the opportunity to have a job, money, and the will to travel accross an entire ocean to see new places. I'm not ready to seriously say "let's start saving for a house." An interesting fact also is that my Mexican citizen ex has zero credit in the US, so besides having to marry him to immigrate him, he also has to have good credit to be approved for a house loan.

Just got an inbox from him. He misses me a lot and wants to see me.

I'm not sure how genuine that is.
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Levels of sadness are not so bad right now. They were quite terrible earlier today, and I felt pretty close to crying at one point. A few hours of reflection will do wonders. I realized from these memories that my relationship wasn't the happiest, and that I wasn't happy. I was very busy trying to keep HIM happy that I lost track of my own needs and happiness somewhere along those two years. Maybe it'll be be an up and down thing. It definitely felt therapeutic to erase all of the messages in my inbox. Now I have nothing to obsess over and over-analyze. I'm doing the damn best I can to move on with the week. Friday tomorrow, the weekend, and no boyfriend's home to go to. I made plans to go to brunch with my mother on Saturday, made a hair appointment afterwards at 2 PM, and am indirectly asking my girlfriends if they have plans for the weekend. I'm doing all I can here. I try thinking about buying my new car and scheduling a trip to Phoenix to pick one out and buy one. I try thinking about healthier eating, dieting, starting exercise and losing weight. I FEEL more attractive, more self-confident. I keep thinking about the trip to Europe being planned for the summer and how I will start saving up for it by limiting my shopping sprees. For the past three days I have been muting out my thoughts by the loud music from my iphone earphones; I have been typing away meticulously at client charts while listening to 90's music, girl-power, women empowering music. I have been going back to my childhood and to high school years. To Freddy. To the hearts I broke in high school and the guys I ignored and turned down because I didn't like them. To my friends.

I looked back at how much fun I had in years past, pre-graduate school, and how much I had managed to tone my lifestyle down to keep someone else happy. I love to go out and dress up for Halloween and party. I haven't done that for the past two years because my ex's niece's birthday party was always on that weekend and he didn't want to go anywhere else after. I wanted to go out of town for the weekend or take one day off and plan a short trip somewhere; he wasn't allowed any days off from work and didn't want to go if I was paying for the hotel and restaurants. He didn't want to go out on the town if he didn't have enough money but I did. We stayed in to watch tv. He blew up the past two years because I wanted to spend New Year's Eve after party with my friends; He wanted me to get up at 7 AM the next day to go to his parents' house to spend the 1st. He was upset because I wanted to spend the holidays with my family and stay with my father on his birthday on April 19th; his own birthday. He said "you never asked me how I felt about that!" when I told him we would celebrate his birthday the next day and not on his actual birthday. A step back and I see it was all a whirlwind of insecurities and clingyness. He did not respect my time with my family but I was expected to respect his.
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Today has been 48 hours exactly since I last met with my now ex boyfriend to tell him that I needed a break from the relationship. When I walked away with nothing more than feelings of guilt and uncomfortableness, I didn't quite expect for it to hurt after. The first day after the 'break' I felt almost elated with my newfound freedom and single status, all the while berating myself for having made it a "break" and not a final end to the relationship, for closure's sake. He also did not seem to be keen on calling it a "break"; to him, this was the end. I didn't even clarify with him whether this was the case, and I wonder whether I should have been more clear about it being a break or the end.

But at the time, it just felt like I wanted out. I had become so hurt and frustrated over the course of the relationship, with fights and arguments that ranged from the moment we met to this past weekend, two years later, when he expressed how upset he had felt because I did not write anything on his valentine's day card and had not given him as many gifts as he had to me. And I quote him on this. It was a small thing, now that I take a step back and analyze the situation and event that snowballed into the end of a relationship. But under my count, there had been too many of these already. A second break up in less than a month and both having been initiated by me. He came back to my place the first time instead of driving back to Mexico, after I met with him at a Starbucks parking lot to "discuss things" when it blew up again into a competition to be heard, which meant speaking over each other and raising voices. Of course, it all went down the shit hole and I said I wanted to break it off. Things wouldn't work out and I was done. He stormed out of my car and slammed the door, I skidded out like a road-raged hormonal teenager. But he came back, when he realized I wasn't going to be going back, and when he realized I really did not have any intentions of calling him. I cried in bed for a bit, being consoled by my sister before I got a message that he wanted me to come out. We made up the next day. Life went on. Another fight, exactly two weeks later. Arguments and attacks, victimized thinking, all through facebook. It was hell.

We cannot handle conflict and we cannot handle each other it seems. And long distance? It ain't easy.

And I hate myself for actually feeling something because I was the one who had gone into his car in the Burger King parking lot in Mexico and watched him break down into tears when I told him that my intentions were not fix things. I had gone there to throw in the towel. He threw a Zales' card with 3 numbers written on them. The item numbers that he had already chosen, with the help of a male friend and a female friend. This was his "Get Out of Jail Free" card. I asked him if he felt that an engagement ring would solve the issues we were already having, if getting married and moving in together would help us manage the conflicts and the fights. He didn't respond. He said the distance had been affecting us, so from his perspective, marriage would be the end of the current issues we were having. He asked if there was no chance of us working out again, to give it one more shot. He must have detected my uncertainty and change of mind. I had walked in confident that I wanted to end it all. Part of me still wanted even after the tears and the continued last desperate attempts to keep me in. I told him that I wanted a break. He asked, "so then it's over?" I nodded. I didn't want to tell him that I was considering getting back together with him after this break, which I didn't specify how long it would be. In all honesty, I didn't want him to keep his hopes up and expect to be right back together after I was done gathering up my peace of mind and sanity.

I do miss him, it's only been two days. But, I frequently ask myself if I miss the idea of him and not so much what I actually had in the real world with him. It's sad, but the bad moments stand out more to me, most likely because we have had more of them with constant fighting and arguments, most of them getting overtly dramatic and manipulative; ladden with ultimatums and assumptions that one of us was about to end the relationship. Those moments, the ones with the hours and days of fighting and arguing over facebook chat, are painful to look at. These are hours and even days long fighting that switched from shitty skype connections to messages to expensive long-distance telephone calls. When the telephone conversations lost control, we hung up, more pissed than ever, and I had to typically wait two or three days before I would drive up to Mexico to see him and "work things out." Things were worked out, and they lasted for about two more weekend visits before something broke again. It had been an ongoing cycle since day one. It may be me. It may be both of us. Maybe we just never were compatible.

And when I miss him, I ask myself: Do I *miss* all of the other things too?
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Trying to type and taking care not to screw up my freshly polished nails in "speedy hot tamale". Hot shit. Reading past posts and thinking back to 2009, when graduate school seemed like to most unpleasant aspect of my life and I was constantly going into mini existential crises. I still do, but they're slightly more geared towards the pathway of when I will establish myself a professional in my field, when to start saving up for a home, a wedding, a car, my kids' college funds, etc. I just realized it's never over. I just move on from worrying about old dilemmas to new ones, all in my own little hole. It's human nature, I think. At least the "well-established" humans. I'm dying of sleep yet here I am. I do enjoy reading my old posts, and I love my journal. Still love the Yeah Yeah Yeahs, those I will never outgrow. I'm wondering what happened to the very few "friends" I had on here? Tomorrow work. Appointments. Dwelling over screw ups in my very natural, neurotic way; the way I've always done it. I feel like life has brought a few changes, but I still feel that I myself have not changed much as a person. Still irresponsible, unpunctual, and wanting to displace blame. It's hard to own up to less than attractive qualities about myself.

I've been thinking about going to see a therapist. The problem is, living in such a small town and working as a therapist, you're bound to know just about everyone or have met them at one point or another during your student or professional career. They may have taught a class, which is a bummer. No dual relationships. I have plenty of ethical dilemmas, doubts, questions, and just straight out pent up anger about the shitty aspects of working in the helping profession sometimes. It's not all bad. I figured if I truly did not like what I did I would have quit and found another job at the sight of one of my clients (whom will very likely be diagnosed with a personality disorder as an adult) grabbing scissors to cut herself and later threatening to kill herself by jumping in front of a car. No such thing happened, but the police did have to be called. It was an experience that did not scare me away, so I was meant to do this. But it can get exhausting and feel pointless, particularly for those CPS and court ordered cases. These are the clients that don't have a choice pretty much and can think of a million other places to be except an office sitting in front of a therapist. I don't get the "I have a granddaughter your age" comment anymore, which I often took as a backhanded compliment. I think a graduate degree title behind your name and some experience coupled with knowing-what-the-fuck-you're-talking-about badassness has kind of worn off that first impression. But now I realize I'm stuck with the very real possibility of burning myself out from caring so damn much or not enough. I vent with my very understanding boyfriend but the importation/exportation vehicle business has no common ground with the helping profession. So off to a therapist I go. The experience will be great though because I'll get to be "on the other side of the chair", as my graduate professor would say. I'm hungry and sleepy. A horrible combination I remember plagued my classmates and myself for the next two years of the master's program. I miss the camaraderie and the learning. I don't miss the workload, the classes, the isolation from family and other social life. That I was glad to leave behind.

Current Mood: complacent complacent
Current Music: Cheated Hearts- Yeah Yeah Yeahs

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Just wondering what it would take for my world to come crashing down. Went to the dermAtologist to set up an appointment to get that spot checked out on my left back shoulder. Needless to say I have been exceptionally gifted at scaring myself shitless about the worst case scenario this past weekend. If it weren't for my mother I think I would have driven myself insane by this point. But I guess I kind of started Thinking at this point that whatever happens, happens. I'm a little sick and tired of worrying and bawling over something I may have no control over at this stage. Meh. May not be anything but whatever. I have a date for this Thursday to see what that spot is. Also, sunburn is feeling much, MUCH better. Thank God.

Current Mood: lazy lazy
Current Music: Daft punk alive 2007-touch it

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What would you do with an army of minions who would do whatever you tell them?

Have them go out into the real world for jobs so they can earn money for me so I can pay my way through grad school without a single debt. Then I would take off to Cancun for 2 weeks of sun-filled fun in the Riviera Maya. And then take over the world when I come back.

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Current Mood: curious curious
Current Music: Face to Face - Daft Punk

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I have to laugh at myself, otherwise I will go insane from the amount of failure!

Ok, so I had a job and was admitted to the masters program in counseling, and have gotten through 8 months of my career-focused job and 1 semester of community counseling. And guess what? I am MORE myserable and even MORE bitter than I have ever been in my entire life!! Hahaha!! See? This is why laughter is good, along with pain killers, happy hour and cigarettes...

So I quit my job a week ago. And completely abhorred it during the last 4 months of it. I felt very responsible, very grown-up, and very IN CONTROL of everything I did and who I did it with. School wasn't even a big issue because I hadn't even started a class by the time I was hired. I was going through the whole admissions process, paying fees, and enrolling in classes. Very "101" basics. And only 4 months into my job, I was happy that I was able to land something that actually required at least two year's experience and directly in the field of "psychology". My employers were very impressed with the high recommendations from my previous supervisors and professor (undegrad) that they felt I was well-equipped to do the job.
Yeah.

Then 6 months into it, I was crashing and burning. Maybe not immediately, but it was a slowly growing process were I began to notice that my success wasn't as pie-in-the-sky as I had thought. Reality set in and I realized, very slowly and with the help of a little more research and classes from community counseling, that this field had the highest turnover and burnout rates after 2 years. And that I absolutely hated it. It took me 8 months to feel the burn in the managed care system, and I also realized that there is no escaping it. Not even after my masters. And here I had high hopes that hard work would pay off after years of higher education and slightly degrading jobs to get by. Case management isn't that degrading, but I was still someone's bitch, which is a wee bit degrading. Now what?

Current Location: home
Current Mood: distressed distressed
Current Music: Something About Us - Daft Punk

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No girlies night out tonight due to unforeseen circumstances that were most likely bullshit. I got stood up now, but at least I got that phone call telling me tonight's plans were cancelled. Did I deserve it? oh hell yes. But in the end, what will I learn?

That's right! Nothing.

I'm just still pissed as fucking hell right now.

Current Mood: pissed off pissed off

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