Yesterday the bell rang as I was about to recount my first love story so I will post it here as promised. I want to play it fairly.
See how generous I am? I know. You`re welcome.
My first love story takes place as I was nine years old. It was the third day of school in Italy, I was lost in a fog for I did not know neither the Italian language nor the culture.
As I was sitting outside during break, a girl hid my eyes with her palms from behind and told me that she liked me. As I was a fast boy, thus being a pro in playing catch, I was convinced that she was going to catch me so I yelled "NO!" and ran away faster than a shinkansen.
Afterwards, my classmates tried to explain me what happened and as I realized what I have done, I felt guilty.
What is love?
It cannot be articulated flawlessly.
But based on my childhood experience, it was an exposure to guilt and shame.
Love is sweet and bitter.
Have a good time!
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