running with scissors
#13
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Maybe she had given up on love, just because there wasn't a lot of it in the world. Or maybe it had something to do with the way that it blinded some from seeing what it was that they really needed. She was sure that it was a wondrous thing to experience, but for some it was as toxic as waste. Her shoulders rolled roughly into a shrug, not quite sure what to say to something like that. It could have had a double meaning, because so many other things did in life. Everything was about reading between the lines. “Depends on the kind of love you're talking about,” she said, as though it would make a difference. “Familial love is one thing, but romantic love is something that I don't believe I can give up on until I've experienced it, in which case I haven't.” How did one just give up on love? For all the things that there were in the world, surely there was one thing that they truly did love. It didn't have to be alive, it didn't have to be real. “From what I can tell though, people fall in and out of love all of the time.”
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