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Twenty

Life is a battleground. It’s an endless race to an imperceptible finish line where only those who have strong wills prevails.

I was giving Yulian a silent treatment for the past two hours. And the plane was getting ridiculously quiet for the lack of noise. But there were no words to explain to him that I didn’t want to go because of his grandfather. How could I possibly tell him that we have some sort of history? And me passing out after seeing him last time wasn’t helping my brain at all. I couldn’t stop imagining what will happen to me when I see him again.

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