22 partes Concluida THIS IS A VERY OLD STORY THAT MY 14Y/O SELF WROTE AND IT'S BASICALLY ANGST AND CLICHÉ AND I HATE ZAYN AND 1D PLEASE DON'T READ THIS.
Dear life,
No matter how, or from where I start telling my story, it would still sound cliché. After all, it's depressingly common. But I believe that everybody has a choice in how to tell their story, and the way of telling it is what matters. I won't sugar-coat it. I won't say that my journey with you was all sunshine, and no rain; where anything could be solved by a song, because that's not the truth.
The truth is as simple as: I hated you.
Every time you knocked me down, somehow, I managed to stand up again, but living you was like walking a fine line: I had no idea when I would fall and break my neck. I didn't choose you; I was forced to live you. But you're like swimming in the deep end of the ocean; at any second, a wave would crash over me and I would drown and float away.
You have succeeded to swallow me under and pull me apart many times, and I give you credit for that. I wasn't a very tough kid back then, though, because I had nothing to hold on to. My mother gave up on my father and me, and after a while, I gave up on you. But God wanted a different ending to my story, so he threw 'him' into the chaos I call my life.
He smiled, and saved me. I found solid ground.
And just like that, everything started to make sense again.
"I'm Zayn," he said, but to me, it sounded more like, "I'm your saving grace," then, I was catching feelings. I saw the good in you, and he showed me the good in me.
That was all it took to save me: a smile. Now, every word, every touch, every kiss gives me one more reason to hold on to you, so I guess I'll be here for a while. And until I'm gone, all I want is to make him happy. I'm living for him, and it's the best way to live.
Life, please, make him happy. Let him know that I like my choices, and I hope he likes his.
With love, Lexie Grey.
