10.17.11
- LETTURE 367
- Voti 5
- Parti 18
To the man that I will always love,
I will write until I can't do it anymore. I will write until I forget what I should be writing. I will write until my hand won't even let me hold a pen anymore. I will write until the ink and paper runs out. I will write until I forget the words. I will write until my hand bleeds, that my blood would stain the very pages.
Then somebody asked me why I do it. Because I want to. I do it because I really like to share what we had. I do it because I want people out there to believe that true love exists. I want them to know how amazing, blissful and beautiful it is to love and be loved. And then, how scary and excruciatingly painful it is to lose it. I want to reach other people, and I am hoping that I can reach you too, again. I want the whole world, and you, to remember when I no longer do. And when I am not here anymore to remind you of the very words you once said to me.
"I loved you once, I love you still, always have... And always will. "
Tutti i diritti riservati
#968
misery
Entra a far parte della più grande comunità di narrativa al mondoFatti consigliare le migliori storie da leggere, salva le tue preferite nella tua Biblioteca, commenta e vota per essere ancora più parte della comunità.
Potrebbe anche piacerti
rose in the desert
I will write my future story in bilingual. I want to force myself to be the person I like. I don't care if other people like me, I just care if they like me. After days of hesitation, I finally settled on the name, and I sat on the toilet thinking about the script God had sent me... I can't wait to read the script God sends me and I can't wait to finish it. After writing it, the English audio reading was wonderful. I burst into tears as I listened, and burst into tears as I finished writing. This is very interesting. I always touch myself again and again, always write dreams in my dreams. Whose life is not a dream? I am an affectionate and tragic person, and I love this world deeply. Love so deeply, so seriously. God often gives me so much information that my brain feels like it's going to explode and I'm going crazy. I can understand what Vincent van Gogh was doing in the wheat field. When you see everything in the world, dear, you don't care about anything anymore. You only live for your own happiness. People start to distance themselves from you and you become more and more lonely. God, I ask you again and again, why am I stuck in the desert? I want you to answer me, once is not enough, ten times is not enough, a hundred times is not enough, a thousand times is not enough, ten thousand times is not enough! 2025/1/5
the suicide mind
"and you left me with bad habits like cracking my knuckles and wearing your sweater because the smell of you still lingers. you left me chewing at the skin of my skin on my lips because maybe just maybe if it's gone the taste of you will be too, but the problem is i can't tear off my skin. so i'm left with the shivers down my spine when my body remembers your hands running up my back as you kissed me and it paralyzes me because i miss it. i miss you. i miss smiling between kisses because damn you just made me happy and I thought I made you just as happy because you would smile and whisper "what" but i would just shake my head and pull you close and it was real. it was. all of it. so why did you leave me? why?"Completa
LET ME HATE YOU
A marriage neither wanted. A hatred neither understands. Two strangers tied by a past that stains everything between them. He never wanted a wife. Especially not her. Cold, distant, and poisoned by assumptions, Amaan enters the forced marriage with one intention- to keep his distance and keep his resentment alive. Asmaira enters with something far heavier- guilt. Not to protect him. Not to save him. But because she knows the truth of what happened... and she cannot bear to confess it. They have never met. But the moment they do, the air turns sharp- full of tension, unspoken accusations, and the kind of hate that feels too much like longing. He despises her for a sin she never committed. She punishes herself for a sin she never confessed. And marriage turns into a battleground where silence is a weapon... and closeness is a threat. In this house, love is impossible. Trust is deadly. But hatred? Hatred is the only thing keeping them alive.
My Prison Called Life (Bio 1)
This is a bio about me and what I went through as a child. You see I was abused not just by both parents but my whole family. I know you guys probably heard about all of this before but I want to write this. It will help me forget about my past and let me move on. I was suicidal and I wanted to give up but I didn't. So this is a story of what happened before Ways To Stop Bullying and after it. Journey with me when you see the hell I went through and how I made it out to be the person I am today. To be honest this is something that scares me more than anything in the world by writing this. But I want to and need to. To be warned it will get ugly and it might not look that bad to most people who probably had it worse than me. But this isn't why I'm writing this to get sympathy I'm writing this so I can finally move on and say. I done this I lived through it. I doubt anyone would read this and if they do I doubt many will but I don't care I'm writing this for me and if it helps others? I'm glad so I don't know what else to say so this is all.Completa
The Feeling Underneath
"The stars are infinite. And all I've ever wanted was an infinite." ______________ All I knew was pain. Pain was I, and I was pain. We shared each other, mind and body. Me and pain were made for each other like puzzle pieces, and that sickened me. I loved pain, I hated pain. I loved bringing the knife to my wrist, but I hated the ache in my chest, like drowning. There was nothing I sought more than my own self destruction. And here, amongst the stars, skies, and cliffs, I'd find what I sought. I'd make it mine. I'd become infinite. WARNING: this story contains abuse, self harm, and suicide. Do not read if these topics can trigger something within you. Please, know your limits.Completa
Immortal (boy x boy)
My life has always been terrible. I was always bullied at school. I don't know why, it just seemed that people didn't like my presence. The guys would beat me up and I'd get in trouble when I defended myself, for the teachers never saw what they did. The girls would trick me, making me think they liked me and laughing at me because of it. I was always in the principle's office for one reason or another, but I wasn't a bad student. I actually got really good grades. To make matters worse, my mother wanted nothing to do with me. She'd lock me in the basement, sometimes for days, with no food or warmth. My father would then sneak down and beat me before raping me. So, naturally, I wanted to die. But, for some reason, I can't die. No matter what I do, I can't stay dead. The thing I want more than anything is far out of my reach. Why can't I just die? Warning: mention of rape, suicide, and abuse. Also, this is a boy's love story.Completa
I will write my future story in bilingual. I want to force myself to be the person I like. I don't care if other people like me, I just care if they like me. After days of hesitation, I finally settled on the name, and I sat on the toilet thinking about the script God had sent me... I can't wait to read the script God sends me and I can't wait to finish it. After writing it, the English audio reading was wonderful. I burst into tears as I listened, and burst into tears as I finished writing. This is very interesting. I always touch myself again and again, always write dreams in my dreams. Whose life is not a dream? I am an affectionate and tragic person, and I love this world deeply. Love so deeply, so seriously. God often gives me so much information that my brain feels like it's going to explode and I'm going crazy. I can understand what Vincent van Gogh was doing in the wheat field. When you see everything in the world, dear, you don't care about anything anymore. You only live for your own happiness. People start to distance themselves from you and you become more and more lonely. God, I ask you again and again, why am I stuck in the desert? I want you to answer me, once is not enough, ten times is not enough, a hundred times is not enough, a thousand times is not enough, ten thousand times is not enough! 2025/1/5
Più dettagliLinee guida sui contenuti