September 17, 2017

I want to hate your existence. I want to hate those icy-blue eyes, your crooked-but-somewhat-comforting smile, your perfectly-established height, your defined muscular skin that's been kissed by the sun. I want to have it all, but I can not. The crazy misunderstood, teenage side of me keeps saying, ¨No, you can not hate nor forget what you love¨. My excuse for this tiny voice inside is Stockholm Syndrome: the disease in which we have created a bond with their captors. The facts are that I do not love you. I'm simply diseased with this syndrome. But I guess love is a disease too ...


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    Starts promising. I'd like to continue reading :) Oh, and welcome to our community! - Amy




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