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Love Is Blind
How is it possible to love someone, when all our eyes see are deformities? Are we truly fascinated by them, or simply bored of the repetition of each day. So bored, in fact, we must add drama from the smallest mistakes. We label things we don’t understand, as crazy or make-believe, but why don’t we just accept the beauty of it all?
The way people acted around me, hurt me. Some tried to hold a conversation and some stopped listening when they walked up. I don’t think they realaized how much it hurt that person to be ignored.
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