I used to think that love was possession, something that should be taken for granted by childhood sweethearts.
As a young lady with a lot of money, I thought that the world would run according to my wishes, including the young man who grew up with me. But when he held another girl's hand, I realized that my pride and willfulness were the most vulnerable wrinkles on the candy paper. Jealousy wrapped around me like a vine, turning me from a proud princess into a bad girl that even I hated. I tried my best to separate them, but I didn't know that in the process, I was already bruised and bruised.
When all the hustle and bustle ended, I realized that I had lost not only him, but also the purest version of myself.
