Love Narrative

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See there was this one girl, Acidalia in my chemistry class. She seemed like an ordinary girl, tall, brown hair, perky nose,and above all perky breasts. But she was not ordinary to me; I fell in love with her. Yep, she somehow managed to lure me in with her angelic façade. She sat three rows away from me but still, we seemed to find a way to stare into each others’ souls while our instructor babbled on about chemical bonding. I did not know much about Chemistry but oh damn did we have some sort of inseparable bond. Others seemed reluctant to the idea of her being mine; not because she was a girl with mutual feelings of affection towards me, but because it was something much more than that. Something that to others was a instant deal-breaker.

I know, say it already! What is wrong with this girl who seems to be perfect? Why does everyone think you are an idiot? Well, I got involved with a feminist. That is right, a feminist; a liberal, pro-choice, secular, outspoken, feminist! How did I end up with a fully-fledged, card carrying, rally-attending feminist? I am not sure, it just happened. Anyways, she instantly became my everything, or so I though she had. I mean what did I know, I was only an impulsive sixteen year old. If you were wondering how in the world could I possibly withstand a hairy woman that nags like a dog after everything I do , well she was not the typical ‘feminist’. She was beautiful, stunning, divine, gorgeous, ravishing; and did I mention beautiful? Her luscious

I know, what the hell would a date with ha feminist possibly be like? One word, unorthodox. I built up the courage to go to one of her consisted of her dragging me to a rally or a protest demanding gender equality along the street of a hectic intersection. And yes, I was the only male there but she seemed to respect me more for that reason. The bypasses seemed to enjoy watching women screaming, holding up colorful posters with a fist drawn on it. I could not comprehend why women...
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