The third month, something shifted. I woke up one morning and the first thought wasn't who could love me? It was what do I want for breakfast?

I'm not cured. I don't think you get cured from something you've been doing since you were fifteen and a boy in a band sweater told you you were "different."

Real love — the kind I'm still not sure I believe in — probably feels boring sometimes. Safe. It probably doesn't make you check your phone every three minutes. It probably doesn't require you to perform, to shrink, to beg.

Here’s a short, original free-read text titled — raw, emotional, and designed to hook you from the first line. Title: Love Junkie Genre: Contemporary Romance / Emotional Fiction Read time: ~3 minutes The First Hit

I'm not there yet.

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