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It was that typical love at first sight. Stereotypical stereoscopic monomaniacal hi fidelity. I was bumblestumped at first glance, I almost froze at the glimpsing of that flaxen bombshell; my solitudinous silo was ravaged, fubared in a millisecond. That new feeling confusing me and dumbing me down.

It kept growing and I was heartsunk like a sailor on shore leave meeting a hooker with a heart of gold (though nowadays it would be platinum wouldn’t it?). I don’t regret it, the pain of being the better man and not ruining a nice family. Sometimes I reminisce and get caught up in what she’d be doing now. At times the thought arises that she had another kid with that dickweed and I get hot pot angry. But ce la vie, que what the fuck.

It definitely was a necessary lesson and informed my views on life and relationships. I was beyond my peers in what love really was and suffering from depression at the same time opened my eyes to this infinitesimal power, the only good thing in this world; untainted emo train, chugalug to this day.

I guess it was the most important moment in my life, I had been stripped of all pretension and was actually living, proof that it was possible for a messed up sensitive boy like me. I accepted her in all ways and I crave to be that way with everyone. No judgement, no looking down at all. I guess a utopia of two is all we can hope for at the moment. Good enough I wager.