Me

Yes. I'm an aspiring writer

I always wanted to be a journalist, ever since I was 5 years old. This goal was set, and I always was writing, questioning, the most curious little girl you would have ever met.

Unfortunately that little, naive, beautiful little girl. She has grown and ceased to exist. She/I turned into a lost girl, a mystery to others and to myself, ultimately a disaster to myself. Back to the point though, I have always wrote, it's helped me regardless of the fact that I am not able to be helped anymore. I want to be a travel journalist photographer. This is because I need to see the world, I can not stay in one place for long. It ruins me and shatters my brittle bones to pieces when I'm in one place for to long. I get sick and more depressed than I was to begin with. I need to and I will travel, if I manage this survival of my life.

My name is Victoria Gallagher, and I am a writer. I am telling my story now in bits and pieces with all true events in my life. To prove this fact I believe about myself, this is a piece of my writing.

"It all stopped so abruptly, almost painful. Until that one night 3 weeks later.

He came home sightly tipsy this was clear to me since he had seen no issue planting himself beside me on the couch laying with his head on my lap, asking to watch a movie.
I considered a smooth way to say no to the offer, but "okay sure" was the answer I gave, only knowing I've been hoping to be the object of his affection again. Once more.

Then the usual debate of who would choose the movie had started, because neither of us wanted to be in control of what was put on, and for once I won. He picked the first action flick he found, I knew that he knew we wouldn't be watching. If we were to watch, both of us knew it wouldn't be for long.

He sat up now unwinding my fidgeting fingers from his hair, I let him. I sat up straighter leaning forward, too quickly for a girl who enjoys playing games and being unobtainable to others. Foolishness. (On my part)
"Why are you sitting like that, what are you thinking ?" The questions pressed.
I should have been the one asking questions, not him.

I felt like he could see the silent debate I was having within my mind,"thinking " I spoke the words reluctantly
"About what?" Another question pressed.
My words came out to fast this time," about whether or not I should cuddle against you." Then all at once we were laying on the couch my head on his chest his arms fully wrapped around my small frame feeling the heat of my skin.

We talked then, some about the movie, some about random topics. Quietly as the conversation ended I focused on the tv screen, even though I was tangled in thoughts.

That's when he turned to me with his face so close to mine, leaning in to kiss and rest his lips on my forhead," I'm tired" softly he mumbled this.

"Then go to bed." Not what I wanted to say but I knew I had to.
Then the usual argument of what I wanted and what he wanted began, as it has on so many other occasions. We were both too stubborn. With my annoyance to this game becoming clear and my last "just do what you want" it happened then.

"You" he said almost as a statement he expected me to know. Then in one movement I was turned and picked up, and then I was weightlessly lifted up the stairs." - Victoria Gallagher

That is one piece of my personal writing.