I met him for the first time on the day I turned sixteen. He had been holding flowers and chocolate, had on big glasses, freckles, acne, and pants that were two sizes too big.Now, I met him again at twenty-six. He had a tattoo on the side of his neck, a gold ring pierced into his lower lip, his eyes thin, his thumb hovering above the trigger of the gun he was toying around with as he held my gaze."Remember me?"I could barely breathe as I watched him. Memories of that first meeting filled my head, and I stood there, my hand resting on the gun strapped to my thigh, but something wouldn't let me pull it out.He had been the overweight nerd who stammered one too many times. Who could never bag any girls, much less someone like me.But that was then. The man who stood in front of me was nothing even close to that boy, and I could tell from the way he watched me.His eyes had been tender back then, then full of tears, and then closed with bruises. Now they were filled with a sense of hat
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