Yes, that's right. It all started with the butterflies in the stomach.
Remember the time when you were a teenager, perhaps a little bit nerdy, but happy?
Remember the time when you did not know shit about guys and really, couldn't care less?
And then remember the time when you found yourself getting curious about what would it be like to have a boyfriend?
And remember the time when you went into college, and were still the little nerd who was just happy carrying books around the campus?
At least your face was clean. You were a nerd, but at least a clean one.
And so it all started with the butterflies in the stomach. It all started when you agreed to go out with him to have a cup of coffee thinking"Like hell I'd fall for this guy" and ended up the day with butterflies in your stomach and heat flushing your cheeks.
Pathetic, isn't it?
And so then you spent the next few months cursing your fate. Why were you born a woman after all? And why would woman have to be responsible for getting pregnant, and well, stopping themselves from getting pregnant with shit that would mess up their hormone and immune system?
Your first best friend was a little bastard implanted in your arm. He was a little bastard, but he kept you safe. But gradually he turned revengeful, storming on you with 2 periods per month and cystic acnes all over your face. You tried to put up with him. What can you do? He kept you safe.
The relationship did not last long. Finally you gave up. It was too much. You were told that bringing another member into the family: the pills, would help him calm down and make it all better. And that someone was right, the pills somewhat satisfied his temper. The blood was gone, but he wanted more! That little bastard. So ever morning he woke you up with little angry bumps on your face. You were patient, you tried. But he wanted more, and you knew that.
So you told him goodbye, after 9 months of tears and distress.
And you met her: another pills. You have known her for almost 2 weeks now. Nothing has changed. You wonder if it's still the aftermath of being with him, or it was her. You don't know. And still you find yourself awake every morning, angry and revengeful. If only... If only you had not met that guy, if only you hadn't fallen for him, if only you were not a woman from the very first place.
Suppose then, if you can't change fate, then you might as well work with it.
BP burnt so bad you couldn't take it. Red, itchy, flaky, unbelievably itchy. But they said it was expected so you suppose you just have to learn to live with it.
But then, you've got to be strong.
Funny enough. Imagine the time when you wake up one day and your skin is clear and you look back at this time, you're sure you'll laugh at it. Of course, you know your skin is getting better, so why bother getting distressed?