f r a g m e n t e d.

oh and I fell.

I've always been one of those girls who imagine romantic scenarios on a daily basis. Anywhere, anytime. Yes, sure I was the protagonist, but at the same time, it was just so internal, so fictional that... It seemed like it could never happen in real life, you know? The clichés: holding hands, long walks on the beach, a good hot coffee in the afternoon. The good morning messages. Eye contact. Hand contact. Those stupid butterflies fighting in my stomach only by the thought of seen the other person. Gosh, it seemed perfect. A good, lovable, ordinary but fabulous fiction.
Until it wasn't a hypothesis anymore.

You showed up.

Since the beginning I knew you were trouble. Oh Taylor, sweet Taylor, you really did summed up my feelings. You were a mistake, and I knew it from the beginning, but chose not to give a damn about it. Bring it on, y'know? The messages started to show up. 7am and there you was, sending a warm 'good morning, my dear'. For a ingenuous and kind of desperate-for-a-lover kind of person, of course I fell for it. I fell for you. I fell for your words. For your hands, holding mine. For your 'hey, let's go get some coffee, huh?'. I fell for your stories and crazy thoughts. The butterflies were alive. And so was I.

But you had to fuck it up.

It was all a fiction. You lied. Stupid, stupid. Life's not a story you can create in your head and just pop it into reality. You walked away. You moved on. Could just wait for a while? Show a little bit of, I don't know, emotion? No, no. I was never the protagonist. There's no protagonist. There's people. And here I am, writing a romance about our "romance". The only difference, of course, is that in the end, everything turns out just fine. They end up together and in love. They'll have the happy ending we never did.

And I fell for this story, again and again;