The Art of Existing

The Art of Existing

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WpMetadataNoticeLast published Tue, Nov 10, 2020
I saw him enter through my bedroom door. well I didn't exactly see him. All I could see was his body and hair, but his face was hazy. I had no motivation to move so as he approached me I continued to lay on my bed in a ball position. For some reason I knew he wasn't going to hurt me and for some reason my body started to relax.
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#103
existing
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We rounded the corner, breathless, and I saw him. There he was, just stepping out of the classroom door. I quickly averted my gaze, pretending to look at something else as my heart skipped. But I couldn't help it-I stole a glance, my eyes lingering at the side of his face. Did he see me? I couldn't tell. He seemed to glance in my direction-maybe it was just my imagination. After all, I wasn't the type of girl who would catch the attention of someone like him. I wasn't even looking for that kind of attention. I wasn't interested in relationships. Not yet, anyway. I liked my freedom-no strings, no expectations. I wasn't ready to commit to someone when I was still figuring out what I wanted from life.

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