Story cover for My Harry Situation. by MorsByNex
My Harry Situation.
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Bersambung, Awal publikasi Agt 30, 2013
Millions of girls are screaming at the tops of their lungs while I just stand there amongst the crowd staring at the 5 boys who are currently hoping around on stage singing.

I look over at my best friend, red in the face and grinning ear to ear, I smile to myself happy that she's happy.

But that's not the only emotion I feel. The top one to describe me at this moment? Bored.

It's not that their songs are too bad but....their not really my style.

You see my friend next to me is the colorful, happy, bubbly type that everyone loves.

Me in the other hand I'm the dark, pessimistic, bipolar friend with the sarcastic attitude that no ones enjoys being around.

So you can imagine how I felt when the curly head dude pulled me on stage.

And you can imagine the shock everyone in the arena must be feeling as they look at him sit me down and sing to me.

His group also looked puzzled, and I think I know why...
.
.
.
.
.
.
I am a guy of course..
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Echo of the Past

30 bab Lengkap Dewasa

A few months ago, I bought a mug with gold gilt. On sale. Not a gift either nor because of an occasion to remember by it. Just plain, pretty mug for 15PLN. I drank my coffee from it since. I spat loose tea leaves into it. It never felt particularly significant. An ordinary object. Only when I lost it, I realised its true value. I sat comfortably at my desk one evening. Looking at my phone, I reached to take my song-text notebook. Trivial situation. My clumsy fingers were unable to avoid the mug. They allowed it to topple over, to slip from the desktop. Even though I did not see the split-second occurrence, I felt the pressure of unease. My head painted the trajectory of the fall on its own, the shattering, spillage. The loss. For a millisecond I still had hope, that I would be able to catch the mug, that I would be able to avoid what was about to happen. But I knew I was headed for failure. I don't have any superpowers. I only scalded my fingers. I looked at the mug's new shape for a long while, at the shattered pieces. At the spilling liquid. Our adventure came to an end. Irrevocably. I won't be drinking coffee from it anymore, nor spit tea leaves into it. Well. I shouldn't be sad, it was just a regular mug, just like thousands of others. I grew to like it, it kept me company throughout hundreds of warm drinks. I lost it. I hate this feeling the most. In the moment when I am losing something, I stop in my tracks, I hold my breath. It is always a very intense moment. A short one, but one that gives me the tight unpleasant feeling in my stomach. The feeling of loss is always accompanied by hope. Silly and naïve. Making me believe so strongly, that I can make it. That I will still be able to catch the mug mid-flight. When the feeling is entering the body, crawling into me I realise, how important it was to me. Whether it's Nivan or a stupid mug with gold gilt.