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Frida Kahlo and Diego Rivera understood love. They were faithful to each other's hearts, even if they had sex on the side and fought like maniacs. I like that. I internalized that for the first time yesterday. I understood how that could work. I understood what love meant without all the social limitations. I think I'm smarter than that to let society tug at my heart with it's countless rules of sexual fidelity. I'm smarter than that to hang on to the lies of flawless movie romances. I think if I'm going to have any relevance in life I need to understand love.
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