My first time I learnt about unconventional love was at the age of seven after my mom threw a little kitten out of the house. I found him on the stairs on my way to school. My dad was next to me that morning, so we brought him back home in my dad’s brown hat. All day I was dreaming of feeding my little fluffy angel with warm milk and, by the end of the day, I even had his name ready. When I returned from school the angel was gone, for he DID IT on my pillow. I loved him anyway, but my mom kicked him out with a fly swatter and said that he was “unconventional” therefore he couldn’t be loved. For me, he was pretty normal. I saw the fly swatter more often than Angel did, even though I always kept my pillows tidy. I cried non-stop for three days until I got a plastic clown. Since then I decided to go for unconventional love in life.
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