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My penchant for thievery and disappearing aside, something about me made other kids uncomfortable. I knew it. They knew it. And though we could peacefully coexist as classmates, I was rarely included in after-school activities.
The most palatable version of me was one seen from a distance.
The purest love is not born from bliss. It is pulled from the pyre. It is fierce and shape-shifted, slightly twisted and delicious. Accepting, forgiving, understanding, and relatably flawed, my type of love is the furthest thing from perfect.
