A Love-Hate Story

Sunshine In A Bottle

The last two months were pretty rough for me. There is this guy I know (Let’s call him Adam for now) whose company was mentally draining. My endorphins copiously started pouring out of my brain’s faucet every time he was around. But here’s the thing: I didn’t have an option to neglect him this time because his family had come to visit mine. Over the past few years, puberty happened, paradigms shifted, positivity snuck in, and I had learnt to accept people for who they are. But my opinion of him? Stuck with me like a leech. To me, he was a nasty, exhausting, unnecessary existence. Bluntly put, I hated him. I was too stubborn to reexamine my intense feelings of dislike. As a kid, he had always been the reason for my poor self-esteem, lack of faith in my capabilities, my sudden bursts of anguish, global warming, poverty, mental disorders…

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