Motivational Anxiety
Every time my mom asks me to clean, I have an anxiety attack. You know why? Because I can't motivate myself to do my homework half of the time. Because I can't motivate myself to eat healthily. Because I can't motivate myself to work out. Because I can't motivate myself to do much of anything. So why in the hell would she think I could motivate myself to give enough of a damn to do the dishes?
Excerpt From A Book I'll Never Write #9
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One Week
One week is all you gave me. 7 days is all you gave me to prove myself worthy. And you wasted those 7 days. Last night you didn't talk to me. You didn't look at me. Hell, you didn't even acknowledge my fucking existence. And don't you dare say I didn't try. Because in those 7 days I tried everything to make you change your mind about killing yourself. In those 7 days I was there for you for everything but you never came to me. You talked to everybody else. You hugged everybody else. You only hold my hand when I made a move to hold yours or told you to hold my hand. I kissed your cheek once. I really really liked you. I still like you. But everybody was right. You are bad for me. You are toxic. We cannot exist in this universe together as nothing more than friends. So I guess I'll keep chasing the wrong people until I learn my lesson, because I apparently haven't learned it yet.
Excerpt From A Book I'll Never Write #10
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Is This Even Reality?
I don't know if he's lying to me. And it's terrifying to be in my place right now. The terror of this all being a joke is crushing my lungs. Suffocation. The emotions I feel are overflowing like a volcano. Destroying me yet heating me up from the top of my head to my toes. I feel the fire, yet I am stuck still, in the cold, with fear. I don't want to crumble again. I feel like an earthquake, two parts of me are colliding and shaking me up inside. But I can also feel the change. But is that change good or bad? Is this just another crush? Maybe I don't know what love is. I thought I knew. Maybe i've found a new definition of love. The pits of my stomach tie in knots, and I can't breathe. When you told me that you liked me, every muscle in my body froze. Then the biggest smile spread across my face. At that moment happiness dominated every fiber in my body. At that moment, there was nothing that could've brought my mood down. But now, now that I am away from that day and that happy place, I have had time to dwell on every negative aspect. The worst of all is that it wasn't really him behind the screen. I've experienced this awful nightmare before. And the first time I was right that the boy wasn't behind the screen. I've wanted us to be a thing for a long time now. And he says he wants that too. Who am I to call him a liar? But also, who am I to believe him?
Excerpt From A Book I'll Never Write #11
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Much Love,
Anna/Asher
YOU ARE READING
You Don't Get It
Short Story*TRIGGER WARNING* This book may be triggering to others. Read at your own risk. This book will be a series of short excerpts that I have written out of an emotional outburst.
