It's You, Again. (Camren)

prologue

NOTE: For better reading listen to the acoustic version of the song "Where's My Love by SYML"

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POV Lauren Jauregui

Home.

Some people define home as a place where they feel like they belong, others may see it as a roof and fours walls and some could even define home as a pair of arms and a heartbeat, but not me. I was never able to fit in one of these catogories.

All my life I've been struggling with the meaning of these four simple letters. I've always felt like I didn't have a place in this big world. Don't get me wrong, I'm not suicidal neither am I alone but just because I'm not alone doesn't mean I never get lonely. In fact, loneliness has followed me everywhere my whole life. I'm absent and present. I'm in the middle of a crowd, laughing, smiling, telling jokes and sharing stories but I'm not there.

Why, you ask? I have no fucking clue. Sometimes I think because it's because I grew accustumated to the fact that nothing lasts forever. People leave, they either get tired of your bullshit and dump you or simply die, as for houses, they crumble and fall; just like relationships.

You probably think by now that I grew up in a fucked up family where my abusive cheating father left me and my mom who of course later became an alcoholic to rot in hell and went after a gorgeous blonde with breathtaking curves. I mean that's the plot of every story, right?

Well guess what? You couldn't be more wrong. That's not how things always work even though I've got to admit that the death of my grandmother, Angelica, kind of left me heartbroken. Honestly, I don't even know if I'm allowed to use that word due to my "lack of emotions" if I may say. I was never one to grow fond or attached to someone or something. It's always been that way for me. I didn't cry because I lost my all time favourite teddy bear since I never had one and I never cried on my first day of school for leaving my mom because I never held onto her. In fact my mother used to always confront me on my emotional detachement. Well most fights were basically revolved around that subject.

And now I believe that you may be thinking: "Oh she probably met someone who made her feel alive and forget all about her sorrows and problems. They probably kissed away her tears and made her believe in a better future and a better life where love, happiness and hope exist, where the sun shines bright and the birds chirp happily and the sky is so blue without a single cloud in sight."

Well guess what? You're wrong again, or at least in the beggining, I thought you were. I know, I know what you're trying to say, I know it's my fault for being foolish and naive and believing that maybe, just maybe, I could have my happy ending and live happily ever after with the love of my life, well not this naive because this is idiosyncrasy not naivety but still.

I still laugh at myself for being so damn stupid but who the fuck am I kidding? Who wouldn't fall for her damn smile that shone brighter than the lights of New York City at night or her damn eyes and holy fuck don't even get me started with those chocolate brown orbs. Never in my entire life have I seen such expressive eyes. How they had this beautiful glitter in them as she told me passionetly about the her favourite books or about this amazingly well-written poem of Victor Hugo that she came across this morning or how they instantly got darker as I started trailing my lips lightly across her neck or when I left small soft kisses across her chest as I drew patterns on her back while she watched me adoringly and excitedly told me about how she once snuck into The 1975's concert with her best friend Lucy and got kicked out for rolling a joint.

Even though I was the one to mark her body with my lips, she was the one who permanently marked my heart. She marked it forever and with no return and ever since that day every time I look into someone's eyes the first thing I notice about them is that they're not hers. Because hers could put the beauty of the sun, moon and all the stars to shame while these eyes I'm staring into right now are so dull and nothing compared to Camila's.

But now Camila is gone. She's nothing but a beautiful memory carved in my heart and memory and as much as it hurts now I have to get used to these empty lifeless eyes surrounding me because that's how everything became since Camila is now long gone. She left and all I've got left is a photograph, a lump in my throat and a tug in my chest.

And just like that everything changed in the blink of an eye. All the love songs and poems became words, all the melodies became vibrations and sounds, all the butterflies left my stomach, all the colors drained from my cheeks, all the hope left my heart and I once again became my old detached self and the worst part is I can still taste her lips lingering on mine and hear her voice all the time.

You're probably wondering now how I got here and I believe I have to tell you what happened on that one particular August night one year ago, you just need to stick around to find out.

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NOTE: Hii I'm Grey and this is my first story ever. As you can see this chapter is actually pretty short just to give you a general idea and I guess by now you probably know that the next chapter will be a flashback. I hope you enjoyed reading, I'll see you next time and please don't forget to vote if you love my story so far. I always appreciate feedback so feel free to leave me a message on tumblr or in here. Have a nice day sweeties -xoxo Grey.