I can only be disheartened every single time someone - by someone I meant almost anyone I know - will let me reminisce how I first felt the startling feeling of 'falling in love' and the devastating 'heartbreak'.
My mom once suspected if I was gay, because I never told her a single name of a girl, except Janelle, one time I needed to go to her place and asked permission. My father, who was very much anticipating for my first girlfriend, whatsoever, was just beside me. I couldn't tell them what had happened to me. I can't explain to them that what I need is someone who can comfort me, that time when I was completely broken, and it's like my heart, once a plethora of different emotions, became nothing I know.
Up until now, I have to admit I'm still having hard feelings about anyone involved here. Many say I must move on. And all this time I've been doing everything just to get my butt off this stuck rotten love I've been ensnared. No one even asked me if it hurts so much. They just ask the clichéd questions, like 'Have you been moving on?' or 'Are you eating?'
I don't know if I'll survive this, but I'm hoping anyway.
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