Love, Me.

Stage 1

    Life is terribly ironic. How many times have you felt like reality just grabbed a chair and slapped your face with it, then used the same chair to stab you repeatedly in the ribs? (Well, isn't that the perfect description.) How many times have you said "Everything will be fine" but nothing was fine because you and/or life fucked up? 

    Painful, isn't it?

    Let me quote myself from a couple years back. I once said, that it was so ironic how the heroine and the villain is the same actor, acting alone in their lonely stage play? Doesn't really make sense now that you think about it, right? Honestly, I don't get it either. I'm hilarious. Anyway, it was because I was an emotional little shit. Yeah. Probably just trying to imply that I'm being my own villain in everything. Good job. At least you figured that out. Little shit.

     In this story, I'll talk about the people I've loved. I'll keep adding on if I move the fuck on. I'm going for a journey of self-love here. Names will be changed/omitted completely(obviously).

     Today, I'm going to talk about my first love. I'm screwing myself over here because most of the people who would read my stories know me in real life. Here's your juicy gossip. Don't pour salt on wounds, please, thanks.

     I was always the type of girl who would look you dead in the eye and tell you, "No, I will never like anyone. Or get a boyfriend. Fuck off and stop shipping me with people." Until somehow, the world turned upside down( :] ). I fell in love with a boy who was popular and athletic and talented(somehow).  I've never thought it would happen. One second I was tough and not-gonna-ever-fall-in-love and then suddenly I keep searching for this boy who, questionably honestly, liked another person at the time. 

     Back then, everyone wanted to play truth or dare. There's just something about the suspense and the fact that you're being let in on juicy secrets. I wasn't really good at finding loopholes. I kinda lied, but I still told people. Why? I don't know. I was just straightforward. The one thing I have going for me, and it leads me to my (pretty much) demise. Isn't that great. Feeling's pretty similar to being stabbed in the back by the only person you've ever trusted, ever(but that's a story for another day!). 

     Well, telling people lead to...things. Shipping, people bugging me to confess, etc. It was annoying. Lasted like a few months. Still being shipped nowadays, though less often. We stopped taking it to heart; it really didn't matter because I will never fit his too-high-to-save-his-life standards and the fact that I moved on.(that's also for another day, girls, stay tuned if I remember to write this damn thing. remind me or something.) The only reason he sticks around is because he gets food anyway. What a guy, I know.

     It wasn't all that bad of a "first love". I guess we did kind of hate each other for a period of time, but we're cool now so that's all that matters, doesn't it? At least it isn't as tragic and didn't drag on as long as a lot of other people on the internet's has stated. In a video. I'm not telling you which one. 

     Well then, until next time.