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“the love that you taught me was not the love i had wanted. i wanted a fairytale. i wanted the dream i had seen on television. but maybe i was asking for too much. you taught me that love was the action of dropping me, and everything we had, and walking away until you felt like choosing me again. you always came back to me in the end. maybe that means something, right? no. it only means that i had been too naive to push you away. you had that power over me. i gave you every single part of me for three years, and all i got in return was twenty minutes of what you believed was love. you taught me, the blank slate at 15, everything the way you like it because i was your new toy. you even said it yourself that you never really saw a future with me, yet you still come back. i’m not 15 anymore, i’m not the same girl you met in the beginning, and you aren’t the same guy. and now, three years later, the idea of love scares me. thrill became fear. you taught me what love isn’t. and i don’t want to be hurt again.”
you hurt me.
p.b
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Rooftop apartment by Robert Stern, 70s design, photographed in 1980. Scan 1
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Source.
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