grow ────── 𝑚𝑖𝑠𝑐

❛ it feels like minutes, but really its hours ❜

here's a short story that i wrote a couple weeks ago ( if you follow my writer blog on tumblr, you've probably already read it ) 

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the color of eden and dream ; by raven ryans 

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Love is - as countless other book characters would say - just a chemical reaction. But with Eden and me it's more than just testosterone and estrogen. Addyson Peoria and Aron Rucynzski might disagree - but I say love is connection. Love is hope and holding on to one another. Love is finding the right people, people that make your heart sing. Love is understanding, comradery, and protectiveness. Love is communication - love is long talks and held hands. Love is messy and - and love is bold.

***

"Edes, we have lives. School, work, roommates, aspirations, lives"

"I know."

"We can't just stay out here forever"

"I know"

"Do you?"

"No"

***

"Edes, what happened to us? We used to be so perfect. Everything used to be so easy"

"We did. It did."

"So what happened? You - you disappeared, Edes. Where did you go?"

"Where did I go?"

"Where did you go." "A place I hope you never have to see."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Hush, Dream. Listen to the birds. Hush. "

***

A star. A wish. I wish for everything to go back to the way it used to be. Eden and me; unstoppable. Eden and me; laughing. Eden and me; best friends. Eden and me; kissing. Eden and me; trusting. Eden and me. Eden and me.

*** 

Things can never go back the way it used to be. The old Eden is dead - she died years and years ago, the moment everything went to hell. Now all that's left is this shell; fragments of the girl I used to be. I used to smile. I used to laugh. I used to enjoy life, God I used to enjoy life. I used to love; I used to be capable of love. I used to be confident; I used to be sweet, like honey, and yet tart like the first apple off the tree - some people's favorite type of apple, others' least favorite. Then reality caught up. Now I don't smile, I don't laugh, I don't enjoy life. I don't love, I'm not confident, I'm not sweet. I'm rotten, like the core of an apple when you leave it out too long. Nobody's favorite type of apple. Not even Dream's. 

***

"Green is the color of the grass where I used to read-"

"No, that song is depressing."

"HEY!"

"It is. Just the truth, Dream."

"I know a place we could goooo"

"Also depressing"

"I know a place where there aren't any roaaaads"

"Why does this song fit us so well?" "Where the grass is always greener"

"Green is our color"

"And doesn't scratch your fingers"

"Well no that would just be tragic"