Nada vale más que la amistad
  • LECTURAS 9
  • Votos 1
  • Partes 2
  • Hora 18m
  • LECTURAS 9
  • Votos 1
  • Partes 2
  • Hora 18m
Continúa, Has publicado feb 15, 2021
Siempre fantasee con la idea de tener un amigo con quien compartir los primeros años de mi infancia y el resto de mi vida. Haber hecho travesuras y conocernos como a la palma de nuestra mano. No ha sido nunca mi caso, mis amistades no duraban demasiado cuando era niña y tampoco era del todo sociable o compatible con seres de mi misma edad. 
Por eso cuando entré en la secundaria me propuse encontrar uno. Y así fue. Todas esas idioteces que no hice de la mano de un compañero en la infancia, de repente las experimentaba a montones y con mayor intensidad. Era mucho más consciente de lo que debía valorar y atesorar, por haber sido escaso todos aquellos años vacíos. Y por eso cuando comenzó a gustarme mi mejor amigo, me lo callé y reprimí de manera que jamás lo notara, porque sé que nunca, nada, valdrá más que esta amistad.
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I cupped her face in my hands, rubbing my thumbs in circles over her cheeks. She was having trouble finding words to describe what she felt, and I could relate. I loved her more than words could describe and telling her I loved her was almost an insult to my true feelings for her. My heart ached at just the thought of her not being with me. I honestly don't know what I would have done with myself if I had never went to that stupid party and met her. But, I have a feeling, we would have found each other, eventually. This love's too strong to ignore forever. Both of us had pieces of us missing, that neither of us were aware of until we met. We were like two puzzle pieces that finally connected. "I love you," I whispered, leaning my forehead against hers. "I love you more," she replied in a small whisper, her hand reaching up to caress my cheek while the other rested on my thigh. I shook my head, annoyed and charmed by the audacity she had to think that she could possibly love me more. "I love you most," I persisted, causing her head to moved away from mine as she looked into my eyes. "Always?" She questioned, her eyes unreadable for a moment before a flash of fear passed through. "Forever," I assured her and meaning it. We could live an entire lifetime or for eternity, and my love for her would never fade. It would only grow. There was nothing in this world that would ever change the way I loved her. My, Katarina.
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Most people would call my life perfect and I used to agree. I have wonderful and supportive parents and a hot, soon to be pro athlete, boyfriend. I have been described as beautiful, smart, and funny. I would say I had it all. I am currently going to school at Harvard, but l'm doing study abroad at Oxford. Going to Oxford changed a lot of things for me, but it wasn't anything I couldn't handle or fix. No, the real problems started when I decided to take one day off to explore London. I started my day off with coffee and ended it with a few stalkers. That's the exact moment my life came crashing down. It feels like I was walking on cloud nine. One second I was floating and the next I'm crashing. All because of Niall Horan. Everything I thought I knew is wrong. How can one man do so much damage to my life? Everything I have learned in my psychology classes are keeping me afloat, especially my recent study of Stockholm Syndrome. What happens when you spend your whole life in the sky? You can't go any higher, which means you can only go down. *** "Can someone who suffers from Stockholm Syndrome truly fall in love with their captor?" Professor Dunham asks. "No. Stockholm Syndrome is your brain coping with the trauma you are experiencing. You can't love someone just because they decide not to kill you." I answer with no hesitation. "And how do you treat Stockholm Syndrome?" Professor Dunham asks like it is a tricky question. My classmate jokingly says, "lots and lots of therapy." Not satisfied with my classmate's answer I add by saying, "and never judge or give advice. You have to help the victim on their own terms and avoid polarization. They see the captor as the one who kept them alive. They won't see the bad right away." *** All ideas and concepts come from my own mind. Do not use any of my ideas. K? Thanks! And there will be swearing, alcohol and drug use, and sexual themes throughout the story.
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Sometimes I feel as if I should receive an award for staying strong for so long. When it becomes almost habit to fake a smile everyday and to hardly ever cry no matter how awful I feel is tough. I make it through though. It's life. I feel like crying is a sign of weakness. I guess that's why I hardly ever cry in front of people or even alone for that matter. Only a few people can see the sorrow deep in my eyes. I hide it with laughter and a smile everyday. I'm good at hiding my true feelings and that's not always a good thing. I tend to bottle up my feelings until I burst. I either yell, scream, and fight or I just sit alone and cry for hours. I've only cracked to one person and she is my best friend. She's always been there for me and is like the little sister I never had, but always wanted. No one else has gotten through me yet. I don't know if anyone ever will either. Maybe someday ill find someone that can make my sorrow and pain go away. Maybe someday ill find someone who loves me for me. Maybe someday is sooner than I expect. Maybe it's right around the corner. Can she find love? Will that love be what she expects? Find out in The Bad Boy by bellebug23. Don't steal my story! This is 100% mine. If you find someone that stole it please report them to me after ranting them out and also reporting them! Thank you and enjoy:)*COMPLETED* ALL RIGHTS RESERVED @bellebug23©