I wouldn't go as far as to say that he was perfect. But he was something else, something special that I could never quite name. He was that feeling you get after you jump into the cold waves at the beach. You feel a greater power than yourself take over your body, and you know that you are at its mercy. And he was that feeling you get when you finally get home and take a long, hot shower. You wash off all of the salt and sand, but that salt air smell still lingers in your hair, overpowering your shampoo and conditioner combined. You never want to get rid of that smell or that feeling, but you know you have to. Too much of a good thing is a bad thing don't you know.
YOU ARE READING
FUCK FEELINGS
Short StoryShort story excerpts. "We cling to music, to poems, to quotes, to writing, to art because we desperately do not want to be alone. We want to know we aren't going insane and someone else out there knows exactly how you're feeling. We want someone to...
