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A momentary distraction to what seems to be my new permanently sour mood. Why can’t I stop thinking about him? Why do I care? He was insane, quick-tempered, possessive and insecure. In all the six months we were together, I only ever scratched the surface of him, and even I know I saw more than most. There was something else there, something dangerously broken. Had he not done what he did that day, I might’ve even fallen in love with him. Or maybe you already did.
