Prolouge
There is that special person in your life. آپ know, the guy آپ despise; of who آپ do nothing rater then twist the neck of; who drives آپ to insanity; who bus آپ like hell just سے طرف کی being near; who makes your fingers itch after to مککا, عجیب الخلقت him. That guy who آپ must fight with every muscle in your body not to beat up.
No, I’m not talking about your overprotective big brother یا your oh-so-annoying little brother, both who آپ really truly love. No, I’m talking about the guy آپ are, whether آپ like it یا not, thinking about twenty-four hours a دن درخت hundred and sixty-five days a year.
The “smirking-his-annoying-smile-at-you-in-class-refusses-to-live-you-alone-does-everything-to-bug-you”-kind of guy. The guy who makes your blood boil and آپ cheeks burn, who آپ really desire to hit with something hard. The guy you’ve been complaining on with your دوستوں a billion times and who fill every page of your diary with his stupid acting.
The cocky, good-looking, sooo sexy guy with his enchanting eyes and messy hair who everybody loves, everybody but you. Who picks on آپ for all those horrible things that makes آپ feel bad which, weird enough, makes آپ feel better. He who seem to know exactly what آپ think and can make آپ do an-y-thing just through saying آپ can’t, are to muck goody-goody یا are too scared to do it. The guy آپ called every ugly name that’s ever been hear. And a few more.
New fact: This guy is very important person. I’m talking “turning-you-world-upside-down –your-life-will-never-be-the-same-again” –important. Believe me I know. I didn’t know what those guy meant to me until I almost lost him. یا actually lost him. Well, really he lost me. Not that I’d known it. I had a hole in my دل for many years without knowing about it. When we met again it started to heal and I realized that there wasn’t a person I hated مزید in my life than him, یا a person I risk مزید to keep alive.
While talking about alive. What do آپ guys thin happed after death. And don’t say “I don’t know” آپ all have a theory آپ all wonder about a lot. Way too much actually.
Hot tip. Live while آپ can and don’t worry too much about death. Because sooner یا later your dead and then you’ll have plenty of time to figure out what’s going on. I should know I’ve died seven times.
I died the twenty-first of October 1891 on my nineteenth birthday. Every time I’ve died I’ve died on my birthday. On my nineteenth birthday. آپ think that when seven different girls dies on there nineteenth birthday, who just happened to be on the same دن سے طرف کی the way, with around twenty years between each would wake some attention. But noo, everyone’s to crushed about the tragedy of a young girl with her whole life up a head who died on her birthday. Sigh, Idiots.
There is that special person in your life. آپ know, the guy آپ despise; of who آپ do nothing rater then twist the neck of; who drives آپ to insanity; who bus آپ like hell just سے طرف کی being near; who makes your fingers itch after to مککا, عجیب الخلقت him. That guy who آپ must fight with every muscle in your body not to beat up.
No, I’m not talking about your overprotective big brother یا your oh-so-annoying little brother, both who آپ really truly love. No, I’m talking about the guy آپ are, whether آپ like it یا not, thinking about twenty-four hours a دن درخت hundred and sixty-five days a year.
The “smirking-his-annoying-smile-at-you-in-class-refusses-to-live-you-alone-does-everything-to-bug-you”-kind of guy. The guy who makes your blood boil and آپ cheeks burn, who آپ really desire to hit with something hard. The guy you’ve been complaining on with your دوستوں a billion times and who fill every page of your diary with his stupid acting.
The cocky, good-looking, sooo sexy guy with his enchanting eyes and messy hair who everybody loves, everybody but you. Who picks on آپ for all those horrible things that makes آپ feel bad which, weird enough, makes آپ feel better. He who seem to know exactly what آپ think and can make آپ do an-y-thing just through saying آپ can’t, are to muck goody-goody یا are too scared to do it. The guy آپ called every ugly name that’s ever been hear. And a few more.
New fact: This guy is very important person. I’m talking “turning-you-world-upside-down –your-life-will-never-be-the-same-again” –important. Believe me I know. I didn’t know what those guy meant to me until I almost lost him. یا actually lost him. Well, really he lost me. Not that I’d known it. I had a hole in my دل for many years without knowing about it. When we met again it started to heal and I realized that there wasn’t a person I hated مزید in my life than him, یا a person I risk مزید to keep alive.
While talking about alive. What do آپ guys thin happed after death. And don’t say “I don’t know” آپ all have a theory آپ all wonder about a lot. Way too much actually.
Hot tip. Live while آپ can and don’t worry too much about death. Because sooner یا later your dead and then you’ll have plenty of time to figure out what’s going on. I should know I’ve died seven times.
I died the twenty-first of October 1891 on my nineteenth birthday. Every time I’ve died I’ve died on my birthday. On my nineteenth birthday. آپ think that when seven different girls dies on there nineteenth birthday, who just happened to be on the same دن سے طرف کی the way, with around twenty years between each would wake some attention. But noo, everyone’s to crushed about the tragedy of a young girl with her whole life up a head who died on her birthday. Sigh, Idiots.
