Us from A to Z

A

Air

verb

1.

express (an opinion or grievance) publicly.

"a meeting in which long-standing grievances were aired"

It's about time I communicate myself. I feel that I haven't done the best job of that so far. My duty, or so to speak, hasn't been fulfilled. Whenever is anything full? And how long does it stay that way? Stationed, peacefully, intact with itself. Infrequent. No-rare. It would only be lawful to speak of such a scarce situation in the presence of the word rare.

My chest endures this type of pressure as often as a cat nips its tender paw. The only difference between a vacuous cat and I is the nirvana the puerile finds in such an elementary, or simple, act. But I find such a hell out of the place I am in. Such an aggravating place. Aggravating, frustrating, indescribable. How does one describe the mending of the heart? Like a lion. A lion lunging out. A pain in its limbs that can only heal itself through gritting teeth and keeping itself going. But the charge brings more discomfort to the poor thing. Rare. Rare for such a torment to feel peaceful.

I felt tranquil before. I haven't always been this distraught. Not always this caught in between agony and dubiety. I should say he made me feel tranquil, but I was just as evenly in the relationship as he. Or as he used to be.

I used to think the worst thing a boy could do was call you names-or shame you in some way, so to speak. But I found there was much worse. How can name calling be bad if he wasn't there to call me? I answered to no question. I answered to nothingness. I wasted my time speaking to a figure of what I wanted to imagine. I thought up storms of a boy-a boy who could love me-and I could love him right back. In the doubts of my mind, I knew no one person could give me the warmth and bandage of such a quantity. I didn't think I asked for much. I don't even think I asked for anything at all. God forbid I ask for someone to love me. I thought that was a given! But if I have learned much out of this nullity, it is to not expect anything to be given. What is free, bears a price tag. An expense, I can't afford. What I believed I could afford was the affection of another. But he wasn't "another". I can't fairly say that. To me, he used to be something else. Someone else. I guess I thought wrong on that too.

(Hey! My name is Nessa, if you weren't reading my other story before! :) I am not new to Wattpad, but new as a writer--My writing has become more developed through some of the things I have leaned over the course of time. I really hope you enjoy this story and I am hoping to delight every reader's wish. My only desire is for my viewer's content. Thank you for taking the time to read! Enjoy!)