"Sometimes love is not enough."
With a complicated relationship with her mother, a loud household, an unrequited love and a scholarship to get, Iris Kingston thinks she already has enough on her plate.
But life has a wicked sense of humor, doesn'...
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Have you ever felt so stressed that you can't sleep? And when you manage to do it, you keep randomly waking up at night, thinking? Yet ironically when you have a few hours left to rest, your eyes open at 5:00 am but you can't fall back asleep?
And the worst thing is that you don't even know why the hell you're stressed for.
Since I can't go back to sleep and I haven't started a new book yet, I decide to put on my workout clothes, my running shoes, preparing for a good morning run. It wasn't usual for me to run –I like my bed too much to get up early to run- but maybe the pain of my feet will distract me from the hectic thoughts that come and go furiously in my head.
Maybe I'd even run into my hot neighbor... quite literally too... no? Okay.
Running was a mistake.
My feet were on fire, I stopped to catch my breath more times than I could remember, I didn't see my neighbor and all the quiet neighborhood gave the freedom for my thoughts to scream in my head, because guess what? I forgot my earphones, and I didn't realize until 15 minutes in.
Sometimes I wonder how I manage to do well at school.
I hopped in the shower. Negative thoughts aside, I was excited to see my friends, and to start studying again, call me crazy but it gives me a sense of purpose; it allowed me to do the organizing and planning I loved. I loved planning my weeks, writing to-do lists, preparing, working for something, because I know how to do it and the results to expect. I never had that big purpose that drives me to work, I never had the why, the big dream. I never did, not even as a kid when kids normally are very creative about what they want to achieve in life, all I wanted to do was draw and read my stories in peace.
I remembered all the times I was reminded that I won't succeed because I live in my head, drawing, reading or writing all the time. I was criticized for being isolated, not being social enough.
My eyes watered realizing that even the closest people to you don't realize how words can hurt, and settle beneath your skin, impossible to let go of.
