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My Chapter

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I don’t think I do have philophobia, it could be just that I’m way too young to comprehend love, but I’ve never wanted to date or marry.

When I was twelve, I attended a summer community program, it was mostly for 13 year-olds, but the monitors allowed me in nonetheless.

There was another guy, he was fourteen or fifteen. On the first day I went to the camp, we were on a trip to some soccer fundraiser. He followed me everywhere, and I kind of got to know him. But even though I tried to just be his friend, I kept feeling unsettled, and tried to stay away from him during the trip.

At the end of the day, when I was returning home, he gave me a bracelet. Alright, that’s sweet, you might say. But it wasn’t to me. I threw it away when I got home, callous as it was, I was very paranoid about him.

I didn’t see him again until a week later, because I’d gone to a four day overnight camp. When I saw him again, we were watching a movie. He wrote on his iPhone “I like you a lot” and then put his arm around my shoulder.

Again, I was twelve. I freaked out, made an excuse and hid in the bathroom until I was sure I wouldn’t have a panic attack. I went back in, and thankfully he left a few minutes later.

I’m starting to think it was because I was only 12 and really couldn’t handle love, but before that, I went on chatrooms a lot, and befriended many strangers. There was one, who really was a great friend, but then he told me he liked me over the Internet.
While it really held no true meaning, since he barely knew me at all, I still freaked out.

Since then, I’ve always feared having a relationship with guys. I’m not even friends with any guys, and don’t idolize any male singers or actors.

Whenever I’m around guys, I either ignore them completely and hope they’ll leave me alone, or act as if I hate them.

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