My finger traced the scar gingerly. My lips let out a sigh as I glanced over the shabbily drawn flower around it.
"Love a little more." That's what the stupid diary said. I didn't know what compelled me to obey it but I did. I allowed Lacey to draw the flower. I allowed her to giggle and gasp as she finished her 'masterpiece' on my scar.
What troubled me was - was that she was right. I resisted the urge to grab the diary and fling it out of my window. I didn't like being told what to do and then be proved wrong. She fascinated me. Her positive cynicism to be precise.
"Love a little more." There's nothing wrong with loving a little more. Maybe you love that last slice of pizza a little more, maybe it's the tinge of green in those blue eyes, maybe it's investing yourself more than the other person in a relationship, whatever it is, do it with everything you've got because when it's all gone, all you'll have left is regret. The knives of regret sticking into your heart with utmost precision. So that it doesn't kill you instantly but you bleed to death slowly. With excruciating pain and worth enough time to reevaluate everything you've ever done. Regret. It will never go away. Not until you die and let go of everything. Hence, love a little more. Love for yourself. To enhance yourself. Because no matter how much you love, you will regret. But love some more and it'll make all the regret worth it. ~ Yours truly.
I was angry. I was fucking mad. The girl knew what she was talking about. She knew her shit. She knew what regret was. She knew how a heartbreak felt. What pissed me off the most was the fact that she could have all of that and yet have the handwriting of an angel.
Each letter was clear. Every single scratch made in that book was there for a purpose. And it was fucking beautiful. Whether she wrote out of aggression, pain, sadness or love it all amounted to a masterpiece.
I continued rubbing my scar and played gently with the corner of my glasses. My fingers twitched as I adjusted them and read further.
Love a little more. It's difficult. Loving a little more. The fear of being hurt will haunt you. Forever. There's no escaping it. You will die on the inside. More than once. But all those little moments of laughter, happiness, uncertainty ... They'll only appear if you love some more. Otherwise, you'll turn into what the world made me. So love a little more to keep yourself alive. Because even I still have a part of me. Tucked in the corner.
I couldn't put a face on her. I hadn't seen anyone this honest in a very long time.
It was darkness wrapped in affection and endearment. As distorted as it was. Every word of it- her, held love, a vile misconception.
♥♥♥♥♥
YOU ARE READING
Stolen Pages
Teen Fiction~Her words were my poison. I used them to consume myself. Disturbingly honest. Painfully strained. Carefully penned down. Dangerously addictive.~ A journal that landed in the right hands and told a whole story with words, no lips could speak. Two...
