Australian, 20, francophile, whovian and in a relationship with the Boy. I'm studying to be a physiotherapist, I love musicals and I travel.
This one time, I broke my wrist and didn't notice.
I hate keeping them, I hate talking about them, I hate people telling them to me.
I can feel it rotting away, and the smartest thing to do would be to talk about it and get it fixed but I can’t do that to the person that told me.
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