Chance
Fu.ck, my head!
I tried so fuc.king hard to keep the seizure at bay, at least until the night was over. I fuc.king failed just as I always do. There is no way of fighting off things like this. No matter how much you may want it, how much you beg your brain to be still, it never happens.
God knows what Paris must be thinking. I should have told her about my epilepsy; she would have been better prepared for what just happened. But I didn't tell her.
Why?
Because she made me feel normal. She made me feel invincible. Whenever she's near me, I don't feel tainted by my past or my illness.
Was I so wrong to want to feel normal?
What the hell is normal anyway?
And as I didn't tell Paris my secret, does it mean I should be mad at her for keeping so much from me?
Hell no. I'm not mad
