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Let me help you.
I can, and I'm willing, so just let me help already.

If you were drowning, would you throw away the life preserver?
Would you resist the firefighter taking you out of a burning building?
Is it pride?
Guilt?
Shame?
What is it that almost makes you resent me when I try to help?
Why can't you ask me, but you'll ask other people?

I've never ever lorded it over you.
I've never asked for anything in return.
I don't understand.

What is it about me that makes my help so unwanted?
I thought we were the closest friends, who share our dark secrets and find ways to support each other?
Why won't you take my hand?

Please let me help you.

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