Love,Lust,Pain & Reality

Love,Lust,Pain & Reality

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WpMetadataNoticeÚltima atualização sáb, ago 4, 2012
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Ficção
Romance
"I brush my bushy afro hair into a messy bun and wipe all the dry tears on my face away. I know they say first love hurts but this has broken me and I don’t feel the same anymore. Can my life get any worse?" My names Bianca I am 16 and ever since I was little I’ve had dreams of telling the world about my weird, funny but good life. I’m the eldest of four. Two little sisters and one brother, people think my life is so great but I can tell you now that it has its down fall. In my life there’s always going to be four boys you will here me always talk about through out. Matt, Wayne, Daniel and Quinton, you will see how each of them slowly become a huge part of my life with out me even noticing it. Even through all of that I have no regrets because boys, relationships, friendships, and decisions I have had to make in order for me to grow up has made me become who I am today and you can experience it with me through my story. Love, Lust, Pain and Reality. *This story is based on some true events.
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I am wide awake. At 3 am, and all I can think about is him, turned to his left, left cheek squished onto his pillow, eyes shut, not tight shut but gently shut. Him breathing quietly and a soft light from the window falling upon his face. Sleeping. All I can think about is how he is at peace, sleeping without a care in the world. Even if tomorrow he would wake up stressed and agitated. Right now he is asleep, peacefully, and here I am. Staring at the ceiling, begging to god to stop the pain, my hands entwined together, saying to him that I'm tired and that I'm not as strong as He thinks I am. I still believed in Him, because whenever I lost faith, I got a reason right away to not lose it. My dearest was at peace, he was happy without me. And this time I knew. He was not coming back. He was gone. And all my memories of his smile, his hair, his body scent, his hands, the scars on his body, his two vampire-like teeth, his expressions, his cheesy lines, his eyes. His eyelashes, eyebrows, and the way he used to light up after seeing me rushed in. Of how his eyes didn't shine when we met for the last time. How I missed the special way we used to say goodbye. He loved me. He always had. He put in all his efforts just to see me. He did it all. But he didn't love me, not anymore.

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