If someone had told me, the day we met, that you and I would become close, I'd have laughed. I was sitting on a couch in a studio. My hair was in a messy bun with a baggy hoodie on. I was with one of the artists who had just finished recording, and we spoke about my poetry. He read one of my pieces and told me he loved it. And boy, do I love me a guy who can sing and he was tall. I was clouded when you called into the room with your cousin. I was staying with your cousin's family and you had come to visit them. You greeted me and softly, I responded. You later told me you didn't hear my response and came off as a snob. The relationship grew somehow rapidly yet calmly. It started off with you helping me with the dishes. Then you bought me a book, Alchemist. At some point, we were doing morning workouts together. We went out to eat together. You stopped me from selling drugs. Then I met your mom and your sister. The scariest part was when you thought we were now in a relationship and the most beautiful was that you believed in me and fell in love with me even after knowing the real me, the ugly parts, the bad habits and seeing my hair and face first thing after waking up. Now, now we don't even speak anymore.
YOU ARE READING
How I met you
Short StoryAn anthology of how people come into a person's life, some stay, some only stay only for a brief moment, and some barely make it past a week.
