They told me I always had a knack for getting myself into trouble.
Then they proceeded to give me a medical name for it.
They said that it was something called micromanagement hypocondriasis.
It's where you've been critisied in every aspect of your life for as long as you can remember, so you constantly feel as if you're guilty of something, even if you've done nothing wrong.
Then you want to punish yourself.
I didn't always believe them when they said that, but I certainly did have a knack for getting into trouble.
That much was true.
On one of those brisk spring nights, I took a walk around that park.
My hood was up, covering my hair and face, my hands nestled warmly in my pockets.
I wasn't looking where I was going.
It was the same route I took a thousand times already.
No one ever came here anyway.
But I was wrong yet again.
I had bumped into something.
A quick glance at the sidewalk under my boots told me that I hadn't veered off the path and hit a tree.
There was another pair of feet, wrapped in light brown loafers; men's shoes.
I started to tilt backwards and his hands gripped my shoulder to keep me stable.
Hands tipped my hood back.
Wide blue eyes.
He smiled.
"You!"
Him.
YOU ARE READING
They Told Me...
PoetryAlicia is not a normal girl. Though she looks like one, though she believes deep in her heart she might just be as normal as anyone else, she is not. Alicia is not a normal girl, but she does like coffee, and that's something, isn't it?
