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  • dearabi

This Is Not A Love Story.

Imagine having a bad break-up, and doing everything you could to avoid seeing him afterwards. And you’re successful. Say two months have gone by and you’re good. You’re fine. Then one day you turn the corner and there he is.

The situation is nowhere near as extreme. But that feeling RIGHT when you turn the corner and see his face. And your heart kinda drops. Like you just got kicked in the stomach? That’s exactly how she felt when she received the email. Except. He missed her stomach and hit her where the pain resonated just long enough to always hurt. How the fuck was she supposed to respond to that?

At least he wasn’t lying when he said he wrote. A-ha! He was capable of telling the truth. She was surprised. Even impressed. But also angry and annoyed. And his words, though never leaving her computer screen, or even the tip of his tongue – still ring loud and clear.

But she needs him to know that it isn’t just some eloquently written love story. Not a cute little anecdote with a witty punchline. Nor a blog entry written to pass time. It’s real life. Her life. Her heart. Past her sexuality if he ever took a second to look beyond it. She doesn’t need his strength, she has her own. And he doesn’t need her heart, he wouldn’t know what to do with it anyway. What he needs is to know no one will ever depend on him to be happyexcept for him.

She wishes he had little more faith in those he didn’t start relationships with. He thinks she does a good job at pretending not to care? She does an even better job at actually caring. If there’s any one thought he can actually keep for very long, she hopes it’s that.

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