Incendiary

1. Unlovable monster

Writers Note: Hey! so the main character (nova) is totally a pick-me for the first few chapters LOL. However, the only reason the first half of the book is so rocky is because of the fact that I was still trying to figure out my writing style and her character is part of that. I understand it's hard to read but if it makes you feel better, it DOES get better, I promise (: Just get through at least the first 5 chapters (they're short I think) and you'll be good haha. 

Anyways, you all own my heart and even if you give up before the first four chapters, I still love you lots! 

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Nova

What is love?

Is this not the question we all ask ourselves? Not willingly, of course, but when shit gets bad and you can't decide if anything good in the damned world is real.

Love is a variety of things. It can be simple, or it can be complicated. Mostly complicated.

Love is big. Love is small. Love is everything we can feel and nothing we can touch. Because it loves to manifest itself in places nothing but words can touch.

To some, love is only saying three simple words that carry a grand meaning. Nothing can truly be put into three simple fucking words though, can it? No. It can't.

To others, love is fear.  A religion that is no longer worshipped. 

To me, love is a myth. Not in the sense of non-existent, but in the sense that it only meets certain people and the rest of us just have to sit around and wait for something we just believe will come. 

I had never seen it, felt it, or truly, I had never understood it. It was a tale that got passed around by people who wanted an excuse to act like idiots. 

So they could label their insanity in public. So that they could worship someone who doesn't deserve them without being judged for it.

The world was small, and people were even smaller. There was no way that everybody had one person they were magically supposed to meet. Someone who's just right for you and all your flaws. 

It didn't work like that. It can't work like that!

I grew up in a lonely home vacant of any love. My parents were never around, the only examples of love I had were from books and movies. 

The older I got, the more I began to realize how much of a lie those stories were. Not even lies, just downright unachievable. Hell, maybe I do believe in love but my standards are too high. 

I had given up trying to find love. There was always something wrong. It was too toxic, too boring, too draining, too fast, too slow, too little, or just too much.

I also hated committing. 

I felt that if I ever fully committed to someone and gave them pieces of myself, when they left- because they always left- I would lose the person and the pieces I gave them. 

I sabotaged every relationship by being myself. I would be toxic to push them away, I would ghost them, I would do everything to get them to leave.

Then, I would sit in my loneliness.

I would have the audacity to wonder why no one tried to stay.

I would wonder, was I was unlovable, or was I incapable of loving?

It was both.

If I had truly loved those people, would I have pushed them away?

If I was capable of love, would I have so many issues with it?

Being capable means having the quality necessary to achieve something; I did not have that.

I was never cut out to fit into someone else's life, and isn't that what 'love' is? Simply fitting into someone else's standards so you can convince them they like you? 

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I love you!

- Kay