Sometimes the hate outweighs the love and I want to fester in the heap of hatred and hostility and anger. Because sometimes it feels right to be angry. It feels right to linger in the aftermath of injustice. Why is it that friends love you so much? Why are friends so nice and understanding and receptive and? How do they consume all that you let out–all the anger and joy and jokes and stories and book recommendations?

Why are some receptive while others aren’t? Why don’t we all show love in the same way? Why don’t we accept the love we are given? The way to my heart? Panna cotta, good music recommendations, and an open mind.

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