A Broken Heart Can Be Mend In Many Ways
- Reads 136
- Votes 2
- Parts 6
MatureOngoing23m
Last published Thu, Feb 11, 2016
This first text is going to be rather personal, with many elements derived from the few memories I have of my childhood.
~ Lately I've been feeling the need to confide some of my darkest and deepest secrets but could find no one to turn to. So I just cracked opened a notebook that I carry around all the time with a book in my bag and music supplies. Why am I telling you this? Because those three things -writing, reading material and music- are the only reason I am left standing here today to tell you this story, my story. Or more precisely, the story of how my heart broke and turned me into an insensitive freak, obsessed with my appearance and seducing others while I was in fact simply trying to mend my wounds. ~
The idea of this text first came from a need to talk about my recent experiences and second of all, from a request made by one of my friends. I hope you will like it...
- Aylin H.
All Rights Reserved
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They say what's in the past keep it in the past but I wanted to know all about my past. It was things that I didn't know and that I wanted and needed to know! But my life turned upside down when my past is exactly what I should have left alone. Now if you ask me how it all began, I don't exactly remember but I know it started when I moved in with my grandma who I haven't met in all my twenty years of living. I have been in and out of foster homes since I can remember, living with families I knew nothing about. Being the outcast and them constantly asking me what's wrong because I simply did not speak. The only thing that kept me sane was my good grades throughout school. I got the satisfaction of doing the one thing that people kept telling me over and over I couldn't do. I stayed to myself and graduated high school with honors, getting a full-ride scholarship to any college of my choice. Of course, by having this accomplishment, it didn't make it any easier for me between my foster families. To them, I became the girl who was better than them. But I didn't care because when I turned twenty I finally got to start making my own choices. This is where I wonder if the first choice I made was the right one. The first choice I made was to go live off-campus with my grandmother during my first semester in college. I ask myself how could I be so stupid? But you will see just how stupid I was. Or was I?
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