Lost Without You
- Reads 376
- Votes 7
- Parts 3
Ongoing<5 mins
Last published Sat, Feb 23, 2013
First of all, this is NOT a Zayn Malik Fan-Fic. Okay, maybe it is. But it's not one of those "OMG, ILOVEZAYN. WEBUMPINTOEACHOTHERANDFALLINLOVE" type of story. It's a story, starring Zayn and Zoey. So, let's get to the story.
P.S. Perry does not exist. If i say something wrong, don't correct me, i could care less if I get his fav food wrong. This is my story, i do what i want with it.
My name is Zoey Hernandez, and I fell in love with Zayn Malik when we were 13. It's not the a "I Love 1D And Everyone In It" kind of love. You see, I knew him before he was a member of the hottest boyband in the U.S./ U.K./ Anywhere else. I used to be his next-door-neighbor. We used to hang out all the time. But sadly , on my 15th birthday, he decided that he was going to be apart of this wierd little boyband. Being a loyal girlfriend, I spouted encouragment. But, he started to drift away. I didnt see him as much as i used to. I understood that he had to dedicate some time into his music, but some time turned into some days. I couldn't take it anymore. On our 1 year anniversary, instead of going out to dinner like we promised, he ditched me for One Direction. I broke up with him that night. A
Short while after that, he went away for the X Factor. And you all know the rest. Now, 2 years later, things have changed. I have changed. But some thing don't change. And I reunited with that One Thing in the chips section at the grocery store.
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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.
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