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The first time I saw him, I wanted to gouge my eyes out. He was a walking fashion disaster, a symphony of clashing colors and ill-fitting clothes. His glasses, thick and oversized, seemed to swallow his eyes whole. He thought he looked good, the smugness radiating off him like a beacon. I loathed him, and vowed to avoid him at all costs.

Our families were rivals, a feud that had spanned generations. We were taught to despise each other, to feast on each other's flaws, to revel in our mutual disdain. And I did. I savored every misstep, every awkward moment, every piece of bad taste that he displayed. I reveled in my hatred, convinced that it was the only way to survive.

But fate, a cruel and capricious mistress, had other plans. It began with small, fleeting glances, stolen moments where our eyes would meet across a crowded room. A flicker of something else, something beyond the hatred, would spark in the depths of his eyes. My heart would skip a beat, and I'd quickly look away, my face burning.

It was a slow, torturous descent into the abyss. I fought it tooth and nail, clinging to the safety of my hatred, but it was no use. He was everywhere, his presence like a persistent itch I couldn't scratch. The more I tried to ignore him, the more I found myself drawn to him, to the man beneath the ridiculous clothes and the oversized glasses.

One day, I saw him sitting alone on a bench in the park, his usual smirk replaced by a melancholic frown. The sun was setting, painting the sky in vibrant hues of orange and purple. He looked up, our eyes meeting, and for a moment, all the animosity vanished. It was just him and me, two souls caught in the crossfire of a feud that had long outlived its purpose.

That was when I fell. I fell first, breaking the only law that had ever mattered to me. I fell in love with the ugly bastard, the one I had sworn to despise.

But love, as fickle as it is, is also a cruel mistress. The moment I allowed myself to love him, everything changed. The walls that had separated us crumbled, the hatred that had bound us dissolved. The feud, the rivalry, the very foundation of our lives, vanished like smoke in the wind. We were left with nothing, adrift in a sea of uncertainty, our love of a fragile boat on a stormy sea.

And so, I stood there, my heart aching with a love I never thought I'd feel, staring at the man who had stolen my heart and shattered my world. He looked back at me, his eyes filled with a question I couldn't answer. We were both lost, adrift in the aftermath of a love that had come too late, a love that had destroyed everything we knew.

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