I was always the unluckiest girl in the world. Any time, literally any time I meet a guy that I'm really into, when I feel the butterflies in my stomach, I know something bad is about to happen. No, I don't mean it ends the relationship kind of bad. I mean, when I get butterflies over a guy, someone close to me is about to die.
A few years ago I fell for a handsome, tall man with short black hair and these cute dimples. After our first date he told me he loved me. I wanted to say I didn't feel the same way about him yet, but my body told me otherwise, my stomach feeling all fluttery. Later on that night, we drove around, saw the beautiful city lights and the entire time, I couldn't have been happier. He took me home after we realized how late it had gotten, and upon my arrival, there were police cars and ambulances surrounding my house, flashing their lights. I got out and asked what had happened. They told me there was a break-in. My father had been shot trying to take down the thief.
After his loss, I broke things off with the guy. He tried helping, being there for me, but it was difficult for me to date and grieve. I had no choice.
When I was finally able to move on and find happiness in my life again, I was talking to this guy online. He lived a few states away, but as soon as we started talking we hit it off. One thing lead to another in the countless weeks of beautiful conversation we had I'd never wanted to end. Before I knew it, he and I were some kind of unannounced couple. The moment he mentioned the idea of flying out to see me, I felt that familiar feeling of the butterflies in my stomach. Later that day, I had gone to work, carried out my usual shift, only for it to end with the building starting to catch fire. I couldn't believe I was one of the lucky few to make it out alive, for after I had gotten out safely, the building exploded, roasting alive the people within.
I had to see a therapist shortly after before I could even be allowed to work again. I advised the guy I was talking to not to fly here because I was terrified that the plane would blow up. Ever since I saw that building blow up with so many of the friends I'd made still inside, I was paranoid for a while any time I smelled even the slightest hint of smoke.
After a while, I started to make connections. Was it my falling in love that was causing all of this to happen? Were the butterflies in my stomach some sort of way of my body warning me of oncoming danger? I brought up all of these ideas to my therapist and she began prescribing me pills. Those pills didn't agree with me. Some of them made me feel high while others left me throwing up and finding it difficult to walk.
Eventually this all became my undoing as I was sent to a mental institution for a few months. No matter how many times I pleaded with them that I wasn't crazy, it didn't help my situation any.
So why am I telling you this story? While mingling with some different people in here, I met a guy. We'd meet up every chance we got and today... I got butterflies in my stomach.
A few years ago I fell for a handsome, tall man with short black hair and these cute dimples. After our first date he told me he loved me. I wanted to say I didn't feel the same way about him yet, but my body told me otherwise, my stomach feeling all fluttery. Later on that night, we drove around, saw the beautiful city lights and the entire time, I couldn't have been happier. He took me home after we realized how late it had gotten, and upon my arrival, there were police cars and ambulances surrounding my house, flashing their lights. I got out and asked what had happened. They told me there was a break-in. My father had been shot trying to take down the thief.
After his loss, I broke things off with the guy. He tried helping, being there for me, but it was difficult for me to date and grieve. I had no choice.
When I was finally able to move on and find happiness in my life again, I was talking to this guy online. He lived a few states away, but as soon as we started talking we hit it off. One thing lead to another in the countless weeks of beautiful conversation we had I'd never wanted to end. Before I knew it, he and I were some kind of unannounced couple. The moment he mentioned the idea of flying out to see me, I felt that familiar feeling of the butterflies in my stomach. Later that day, I had gone to work, carried out my usual shift, only for it to end with the building starting to catch fire. I couldn't believe I was one of the lucky few to make it out alive, for after I had gotten out safely, the building exploded, roasting alive the people within.
I had to see a therapist shortly after before I could even be allowed to work again. I advised the guy I was talking to not to fly here because I was terrified that the plane would blow up. Ever since I saw that building blow up with so many of the friends I'd made still inside, I was paranoid for a while any time I smelled even the slightest hint of smoke.
After a while, I started to make connections. Was it my falling in love that was causing all of this to happen? Were the butterflies in my stomach some sort of way of my body warning me of oncoming danger? I brought up all of these ideas to my therapist and she began prescribing me pills. Those pills didn't agree with me. Some of them made me feel high while others left me throwing up and finding it difficult to walk.
Eventually this all became my undoing as I was sent to a mental institution for a few months. No matter how many times I pleaded with them that I wasn't crazy, it didn't help my situation any.
So why am I telling you this story? While mingling with some different people in here, I met a guy. We'd meet up every chance we got and today... I got butterflies in my stomach.
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