The title of this story not strictly true, nor is it strictly false. What is love anyway, and who is to interpret the concept of “truth?” Let me start with the facts. The Scottish man lived across the street on the ground floor of a two story house with a swimming pool. The house was owned by a woman who rented out the upper floor to groups of international students. Every year there was a new group: Dutch, Chinese, Malaysian. The house wasn’t really convenient to public transport, so no one ever stayed very long. There was always some kind of drama to mediate: breakups, cultural issues, homesickness - that house was never boring.
my neighbor fell in love with me
my neighbor fell in love with me
my neighbor fell in love with me
The title of this story not strictly true, nor is it strictly false. What is love anyway, and who is to interpret the concept of “truth?” Let me start with the facts. The Scottish man lived across the street on the ground floor of a two story house with a swimming pool. The house was owned by a woman who rented out the upper floor to groups of international students. Every year there was a new group: Dutch, Chinese, Malaysian. The house wasn’t really convenient to public transport, so no one ever stayed very long. There was always some kind of drama to mediate: breakups, cultural issues, homesickness - that house was never boring.