img Stuck In Love  /  Chapter 4 Electric Love | 26.67%
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Chapter 4 Electric Love

Word Count: 1195    |    Released on: 13/10/2021

ng down everything, the encounter with Raymond, our small talk, what happened at the gym, everything. I always

read it again. It is like having a secret friend who no one knows about. Tell the journal eve

and not to get judged upon. Unfortunately, I didn’t have a best friend, at least not when I needed the most. Most of my High Sc

sorrow. That’s the story of ‘how I survi

ash

aven’t written in it for a while now. I write in my journal whenever I feel low or need someone to talk to. No one knows abo

t the diary before Raymond

again but the diary was in his hand, far away from my reach. We both stood on the floor now, and I gave a last attempt at getting

journal back, I knew strength wouldn’t ace with him. So I looked right into

w he respects me too much, he would never read m

tell me what is in this?

umbled in a

I wanted no one to know about the journal was because I was afraid that someone might steal it and reveal my entries to everyone. As I said, I w

sary for every High School to follow these stereotypes? Why can’

hool bullying. Thin, lanky, tall with shoulder lengt

one day, I remember sitting in the library in my free period when I heard the sound of someone sobbing from behind the shelf. That was when I last saw him, crying

the populars, the cheerleading squad, the music group, the nerds, they’re all categor

ace. I took a deep breath before telling him about the

p a journal?

e down whatever I’m feeling in this, mostly the pain

eriously?”, he

hool when you don’t even have a fr

. He has always had friends, he doesn’t kno

m closer to his lips and placed a light kiss on t

me”, he c

y chin and

urnal, alright?”he promised me. That was the time I knew I c

to tell me that he will always keep his words. He made me fell in love

le I placed a kiss on his lips. I always loved our slow kisses, his gentle touch, the way his hands hold me with

hback

a spot on the page. It is not the first time I cried writing my journal. This memory of us hits me every t

ournal. He had promised me that I n

e are

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