Novel & Cerita You Don T Judge Me Cause I Got Issues

I paused, biting my lower lip. "Why aren't you asking me about it?" “First of all, you are not a child. You are a full-grown adult who knows what is best for her. Also, we just met. It would be dumb of me to meddle in your business without precaution. Please take your time and feel free to talk to me whenever you wish to." My eyes watered, "thank you." “Why are you thanking me?" "For not judging me." She spread out her arms, embracing me gently. "I would never do that. We all have stories to tell. Anyone who judges the other is nothing short of a hypocrite. Don't doubt yourself for anyone. As long as I live, I will always have your back. Trust me."

" I'll be the judge if you tell me the truth buddy. " ©#KCMmuoe

I nod. “One more thing. If I do tell you about someone's threads. I need you to promise you will try your best not to judge them. No one is perfect and sometimes the threads get tangled and mixed up and will take time to sort themselves out. It is easy to be frustrated with people when you feel they are making the wrong decisions, but you have to remember they don't know. Do you understand?” “I understand. I can't judge anyone anyway. It's not like I have my life all figured out.” he states. I nod.

, I admit! “So what is the issue, baby?”, she asks. “I think how everyone else is judging me for it”, I say. “Well, you know what, Lala, people will judge you whether you do or you don’t, so you need to do what makes you happy and stop worrying about everyone else’s opinion. Opinions are like assholes, everyone has one”, she says, causing me to break out into laughter. “You’re not mad about me for lying to you?” I asked her.

"Something's are just difficult to go about. Everyone is scared of judgment." "Why would I judge you, Isabella?" "Because I'm not like you," I admit. "Or Caroline, or Olivia, or Lucas—" "And why does that matter?" He asks me, peering into my eyes as if he is stripping off every piece of armor. I want to get up and run someplace where I can be alone, where his eyes cannot stare me down and yank the truth out of me. "Because I made it matter." "Why?"

They don't really know the whole truth. "I see. And no, I didn't judge you. Look, you've been used countless times, and you said you can't do anything about it. It's not about you being a playtoy to them, that's not the problem. It's the way you see the other people. Like what I've said, there's a lot of people loving you that you didn't notice."

For being involved in this mess? "Am I c-causing trouble for you?" I asked hesitantly, my voice barely above a whisper. "No," he replied firmly, his eyes locking onto mine. "You’re not causing trouble. You don’t need to worry about anything. Just focus on getting better. I’ll handle the rest." His words were meant to be reassuring, but I couldn’t help the knot of unease that twisted in my stomach. I never wanted to cause trouble for anyone, especially not him. But now, it felt like I had become a problem without even trying.

Fuck, "I've paid for my wrongdoings and I'll gladly keep paying for them for the rest of my life because I can recognize when I've fucked up. When I try to be a better person, I deliver. You, on the other hand..." "Oh, shut up, we're not even in the same level. You can't compare yourself to me. You make me look like an angel," Isabella spits out at him, "All I want from now on is to never feel judged by you or I will lose my shit. Maybe Liam forgave you, but I haven't." "And you don't fucking have to, girl. I don't need your forgiveness," my dad laughs, "I will judge you all I want.”

he added, holding his forehead and almost hiding his face in embarrassment. He judged me, and now he realizes he was wrong. I, on the other hand, have been criticized for a long time. I smiled at him. "It’s okay. You don’t have to be sorry about that. Judging me won’t hurt me. I have been criticized plenty, even before we came here," I shared. "I judged you too. My instincts told me you weren’t ordinary when we first met." I added, telling him my first impression. He looked at me sadly. "We have been on a hard path. Your little judgment won’t hurt us anymore. I am just happy you realize you were wrong. That’s what matters." I said.

And instead of throwing him a lifeline, I was pushing him under. One night, we were sitting on his couch, and he tried to talk to me about work stress again. About how hard things had gotten, about how uncertain everything felt. And I said something I can never take back. “Maybe you’re not cut out for this job,” I said, and there was judgment in my voice. Real judgment. The kind that makes someone feel like you don’t believe in them. He went very still. “What?” he asked quietly. “I mean, you’re always stressed. You’re always talking about how hard it is. Maybe you should just find something else.”