Ashley
I had this habit of putting hope to things when I knew there was none. I felt a little hope when he talked to me, when he did memorable things. I was fully aware of the fact that too much expectation could be a root of heartache, and that false hope could exert great pain. If only I could control who to love, maybe I wouldn't be in this suffocating pit.
How could he love me? I mean, I often cursed myself for being ordinary, for being nothing special. I hate myself for being me. Well, I couldn't do anything because that was me. It was me.
Unlike Jane, who was pretty, talented, smart, I was no one compared to her. Although I tried to cheer myself up by saying I had people who loved me, there would come a time when my true love would go for me and love me despite the fact that I was just an ordinary someone. I needed to wait. I wanted it to be him, but I couldn't control fate or destiny.
If that guy would be him, better. If not, fine, maybe I deserved someone else. I should love people who love me and I shouldn't waste my time to those who wouldn't even care.
How could I love someone so madly?
I had crushes, but what I was feeling was different. I could feel it was something so special, something so true.
I was hopeless romantic. I hated it. It grossed me out. Did you know the feeling when a thought of someone wouldn't go away in your mind? When the words they said and things they did kept on replaying?
I would admit it. I would admit that I am in love...
With the wrong person.
YOU ARE READING
Sparks of Destiny
Teen FictionThey have said it maybe the sparks of destiny—étincelles de destin—but I said, maybe it was because of the decisions we made and the chances we took, that brought us to wherever we're at and whoever we're with.
