Winter went
on and soon I found myself from his bed. Don’t get me wrong – usually I found
myself under his bed after furious friendly wrestling which I most of the time
lost (sometimes on purpose). But after
those playful fights we laid in his bed, next to each other, talking about
things we had seen or heard or which were yet to come. We talked about
something totally random and sometimes we talked about serious stuff. And sometimes, we just laid there. Sometimes
back to back, other times facing each other. I smiled and he smiled back – if he
didn’t feel like pushing me off from the bed.
Then
started the time when I broke off with my boyfriend and he was there to comfort
me. He scolded me about my stupid reactions and actions (cutting is never ever
helpful I say). After that his room became the place where I ran from the nasty
world. When I was there nothing mattered, nothing was wrong. There was only me
and him. We were the only people in the world at those moments.
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