"You said, no you sang, you sang that everything was gonna be alright. You said that we'll be alright, Harry. But did you mean that?"
Where Belle Olivia Granger encounters five young boys who happen to be in the biggest boyband on the planet, and sh...
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I live in a fantasy, and I wouldn't want it any other way. This is a sentiment that has always been expressed to me with hopes to undermine the happiness I felt when escaping my state of hell in favor of the worlds I would read about and create in my head, and for a long time I saw it as a bad thing as well, always wondering if there was truth to the words of other's. As an immature young girl, I would choose to pretend that what people said never mattered to me, but of course it always did, my lies simply too good to the point where everyone found those very lies as an excuse to keep chipping away at me until there was no more defense. I became a challenge in the lives of those surrounding me- who could crack Belle Granger first?
The fantasy I was writing for myself was make believe, a simple way to cope with the demons of high school, my father, my dormant emotions, and above all the fact that I wasn't sure if I even liked the person I was.
But that book is over. The end.
Once upon a time is what I'm staring in the face as my greatest fantasy becomes my reality.
No one has a picture perfect life, not the richest of men nor the prettiest of girls. Everyone has demons, but it's how you draw your sword and choose to fight them that matters. For so long I kept my weapon in its sheath and used sarcasm and the warm blanket of my own mind to pick battles and cower away from the things that scared me most, but all it takes is one person... or maybe five to remind you that your life isn't always as shitty as they come.
I was never an overdramatic young woman with selfish tendencies. I was made to feel that way by the family members who should have been there to hold me when I cried, who should have been there to reassure me that my anger over my parents divorce was warranted, who should have told me they were proud of my accomplishments instead of telling me I still wasn't enough. I never should have been made to feel like my desire for verbal praise instead of physical items made me selfish and ungrateful. I was a girl who had so many emotions, yet forgot how to use them because everyone around her deemed them as wrong.
Now I can proudly say that I cry at the drop of a penny, and that's okay.
But you still won't catch me crying over The Notebook.
Most predictable ending in history.
I've only ever been in love once... I know that for a fact. Growing up with a woman as beautiful as my mother and a man as desolate as my father, I still somehow managed to get a glimpse into what I thought love was supposed to look like. Their divorce is what destroyed that outlook, making me believe that the sweet kisses, longing touches, and whispered 'I love you's' were nothing but a cruel joke played by the universe before the rug was inevitably pulled out from under the husband and wife with nothing left to show for their so called love other than a useless daughter and a messy court case.
