3 Tasks, 30 Days

3 Tasks, 30 Days

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WpMetadataReadLopende1h 23m
WpMetadataNoticeLaatst gepubliceerd zon, jun. 29, 2014
I thought he was a goner. But my thoughts were wrong, his soul wasn't. His soul wasn't vague at all. It was palpable. The touch of his cold-lifeless body and the aroma of mint was filling up the atmosphere. The pale pigmentation of his skin and his raspy voice drove me surprisingly insane. Why? ~ For a guy who merely talks, for a guy who gives distance from others, he's one hell of a person. I met him in a crashing plane from Paris to California. He's a hero actually. He saved my life. It changed my perspectives of him, partly everyone too. I was merely pessimistic about the littlest normal things. The fears and doubts of closely losing my life is always flashing through my mind but the thought of knowing he's always there for me, changed everything.
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"𝐒𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤. 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐝𝐞𝐯𝐨𝐮𝐫." [Slow update] They say love feels like sunlight after winter. But no one warns you - sometimes, it burns. Sometimes, it scars. I never asked for obsession, for manipulation, or for love that feels like poison. He came like wildfire - raw, relentless, unapologetic. My first. My beautiful mistake. He was dangerous in the most beautiful way. Gentle with me, brutal with the world. Every moment with him was comfort laced with chaos. His love? Honey laced with venom - sweet, addicting, and lethal. He didn't cross lines. He erased them. In his madness, I mistook devotion. In cruelty, I saw protection. How do you run from someone who'd bleed to keep you breathing? He saw the cracks no one else noticed. Whispered promises in the dark. And a part of me clung to them. In his arms, the world ceased to exist. But the next storm didn't come with fire. It came in silence. He arrived like a shadow - watching, waiting, suffocating. He didn't touch me - not yet. But I felt him, like smoke in my lungs. He studied me. Then he moved. And when he did, everything changed. He didn't want to love me. He wanted to rewrite me. His silence screamed louder than words. He wanted me to destroy myself for him. Now, I'm torn between two kinds of insanity: One who would ruin the world to protect me. Another who would ruin me to make me his world. And I can't tell the difference anymore. They circle me like wolves, each calling it love. But love was never meant to feel like this. Was it? I used to believe love was a gift. Now I know - it's a gamble. A bloody one. And in this game of obsession and betrayal, I'm no longer sure who the real villain is. Because when both players would kill you for love... What does that make you?

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