•Highest ranking: #74 in TeenFic & #12 in ChrisBrown
"What if you find your soul mate... at the wrong time?"
― Lauren Kate, Passion
Foolishly, but desirably in love. One person means everything, unknowingly. Sometimes in love the love is a less...
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Been crazy.
Google isn't helping right now.
"Don't beat yourself up bro. Try to call her later, or something?"
Michael isn't helping right now either, so he can shut up.
Why am I even on Google? I'm acting really stupid and depressed right now. Well that's what I get, I smoked a whole blunt and roamed back in the house. It took me almost forever to type those two words anyway...
I stared at the screen with all the links that popped up. I couldn't read a single one, my vision is blurry. My chin rested on my fist, and as corny as it sounds I'm daydreaming about Miya.
What if I waited for her to leave the shower then talk to her... But I didn't. Like the punk I am I left minutes after her "I'm over" statement. I have no one to blame but myself. I just wished I could've explained to her in a way where she won't think to leave me. If that would've even been possible.
I left her house in the most internal distract form I've ever felt. Like someone ripped out my heart, and all of my insides are hollow. The guilt was messing with me before, but now... I'm a meal for the monstrous guilt, plus the heartbreak that didn't really settle yet.
Michael had his jokes, about my appearance until I explained to him the whole ordeal. He's been trying to talk me into a good mood ever since. But I ignored him, just like I'm ignoring him as I waltz towards my room... And just like I'm ignoring him as I grab my lighter and baggie, and paper.
"Getting high gon' solve your problems bro?" He asked in an authoritative tone.
I side eyed him, as he placed his hand on my shoulder. "Fuck off." I mutter, shrugging him off.
"Aight chill. I understand you heartbroken, but you acting wild.. Put that shit away and go to sleep." He advises.
"I'm good, you chill." I say. He needs to back up with all that nonsense, he's acting like he doesn't smoke. I know what's he thinking though, he always tells me turning to Mary Jane when you're upset will end up in you getting addicted, but I'm not addicted so... He can keep his advice.
I sit out on the front porch, with only my socks and sweatpants on. I look calm, as if I'm just chilling if someone was to pass by and see me.
I sprinkled the marijuana on the sheet, spreading it out. It's hard balancing this on my lap, but somehow I'm doing it. I roll the paper up, tucking in the weed as I roll all the way to the edge... I look out and see the sky getting darker, before carefully licking the end of the paper and then sealing it.
