The results were in, and despite it all, she didn't want to know.
She didn't want to be told. She didn't want anyone else to know. She'd fought for these tests, fought to receive the results, and now they were in her hands...
"You're not going to open them, are you?"
He had known all along that she wouldn't do it - she realised it now. He knew her far too well. She placed the envelope delicately onto the table, and took his hands instead.
"I'm not ready to know, not yet. I've had so long getting used to the...
She felt stupid. Stupid? No, she felt worse then that. She felt bipolar and insane and hormonal.
she shouldn't have lost it like that, now he thought she was a total freak and not in the good way.
The kind of freak, you ignore their texts and messages, the kind of freak you tell your friends, "Stay away, that one is totally nuts!"
She was so angry with herself, angry that she couldn't just leave well enough alone, that she just HAD to speak her mind.
She liked him, but then that one little thing; when he asked about her....
100 feet away. He is only a hundred feet away. That's all the distance that I would need to cross to be in his arms, to be able to kiss him, to find the comfort that I am missing and to feel safe.
A hundred feet.
I have never wanted to move so much in my entire life.
He knows me. It has only been a few weeks and yet I feel it, He Knows Me.
He knows that when I'm unhappy I need to write, he knows that I believe in God for the small things not what they...
It faded.
The pictures always did, but somehow they'd hoped this one would be different. It was more special than the others, it meant so much more - but no. It faded, just like the others.
It became an odd family ritual, to kiss the cheek that had faded before leaving the house, like you'd kiss a mother - it didn't matter that it was a picture of a film star, one they'd never meet.
He was winking. Maybe that was what made him good luck.
Mia had collected pictures, that had been the point of it - pictures cut...
I am not the hero of this story
I have abdicated my own starring role
I will live with that
or otherwise
I have chosen a poor teacher
or I have not made a choice
and that is the worst kind of choosing
She is not the villain of the story
I release her
bye
bye
become what you must, teacher, villain, muse
This is not a test
but I will take it
and pass it
with abandon and lust and glee
But it will not make me a hero
It will make me me
The building appeared one day with only a white-haired gentleman who could have noticed. He didn't however, because he was too busy unwrapping a chocolate bar on the wooden bench he sat at every Wednesday. So only the wind grew unsettled with the sight of the 2-storied Japanese pagoda that shot into place in the middle of Central Park with only a sleek "pop" to give away it's sneak-up appearance.
Almost immediately, a black cat jumped from an overhanding willow tree into the window framed with yellow lacquer slats of wood. The man continued to peel away at the silver...
When you dream you can dream in color and any color will do. The more vibrant the better. When I'm old i will dream in purple because I read a book once that said purple was an elderly color. When I was young I dreamt of popsicles and bubblegum the colors of the rainbow and pink hues. I remember all of my dreams giving them varying degrees of importance based on my age and how seriously I'm taking myself. Dreams about indiscretions are the best. I wake up and realize that I didn't do it after all. I didn't cheat...
Giving in wasn't an option. Michael had broken my heart i don't know how many times. Each time, hurting more then the last.
Here he was, running back to me again after his other fling had fallen through. I couldn't give in this time. I didn't want to feel my heart breaking into a million pieces again. "Please, take me Izzy. I'm serious this time it will never happen again, let me prove it to you." "How?" I asked. "Well, let me start with this. Will you marry me?" I was shocked. I couldn't believe I was hearing this. After...
Blue eyes. Everyone here has blue eyes. A woman in the corner has eyes the color of pale winter ice. The girl wrapped in her boyfriend's arms outside of the tiny cafe has blue eyes that look like the muted blue-gray of storm clouds. Her boyfriend looks at her adoringly with eyes that hold at least five different tones of the brightest blue I've ever seen. Little children skitter past me, and I make out in vivid detail, four sets of blue eyes.
I stand here on the old, worn sidewalk with my eyes downcast. My eyes are not blue,...
The Rivermen had her boxed in. Two still waited for her at the bottom of the stairwell behind the knockoff Bayeux Tapestry--now ripped to shreds by blades. Two more on either side of this room, this tiny, gaudy bedroom that her mother had spent months decorating. And though she knew at least one of them would come bursting through, knife drawn, she couldn't stop staring.