I realised something heart breaking. He didn't want to talk to me. It wasn't him who sent the first message and he only replied because I was an idiot and replied to him. I can't even believe I'm talking about this. He isn't even here and he doesn't want me. Why I'm dwelling on this I don't know. It's not important, he's not important. Except, he is. He's my floppy haired idiot who isn't actually mine. He is adorable and his smile is the cutest. He knows all this, and is off on adventure. He is my hobbit yet taller. I'm not okay with this, I'm not. It hurts, so much, wanting him, wishing he was mine and him; he hardly knows I exist. I don't think he knows I exist at all. He's killing me, slowly killing me and I don't know what to do. I really and truly don't know anymore. He didn't even want to talk to me and that hurts so much.
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Scribbles
Short Story[In Edit] Summer train journey's. What better inspiration for a collection of shorts stories. The concept for this book was birthed on a train but has continued to flourish long after the train left the tracks. From April to September 2016 I had to...
