Cancer.
It's a curse.
It turns people's lives upside down and ruins their relationships.
Brynne Foster is a perfect example.
After being diagnosed with leukemia at age 17, Brynne's family struggles to accept her decision of refusing chemotherapy...
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The thing about love is that it's always around you;
Whether you love someone or someone loves you, there is always existent love.
There is love for the skies on a beautiful sunny afternoon, love for the snowflakes that glisten as they fall, love for the mailman who is always on time, love for the coffee shop that opens at six a.m, love for your sport, love for your mother and father, and love for your brother.
Love for your best friend.
It lingers in your soul, waiting for someone to share its affection with. It breathes in your anger and leaves nothing but dust. It's calming and cool. Healing you from head to toe, love is an all-powerful medicine. Drifting along as you make bad choices and say the wrong things, love is a rock. It pins you to the ground and keeps you stable. Love is like a crutch that people use in times of vulnerability. Love is a form of art that is beautiful in every way; painting your insecurities in a new light.
On the other hand, love is a drug that makes people do crazy things. When you're high on love, you think about doing the unthinkable. Lack of love is painful. Love diminishing can break someone's heart. Love can destroy people's lives because love is dangerous and is an unstoppable force. Love makes people blind to their surroundings, only focused on infatuation. When someone you love dies, it feels like the world is ending. Hearts break, and dreams shatter because of love.
Love is a powerful damn thing.
Love should not be taken lightly.
How can Blake love me?
Even after a week of thinking about it, I still don't understand how he could even like someone like me. Someone as broken and tattered as me. How could someone as perfect as him be attracted to my ugly, sick body. I stand in front of the mirror in the coffee shop bathroom and stare at myself.
I've already gotten three weird looks from girls. They were looks that either insinuate jealousy or sympathy.
Not sure how anyone could be jealous of this, so I assume it's people feeling sorry. People feeling sorry for me because of my small size and sickly-looking body. People feeling sorry for me because I have no friends. If only they knew.
Elise crosses my mind as I think about her for the hundredth time today. I guess I didn't realize how much I needed her until I stopped talking to her. Just being with her offers me peace and comfort that no one else can offer. Not even my own mother can.
Making eye contact with myself in the mirror, I notice my dark eyebags and bony cheeks. I look like a skeleton that might melt if she sees any sun.
Grabbing my foundation from my backpack, I get to work. I press it on until all of my imperfections are gone. Tapping the beauty blender against my thin skin, I grow angry with the prominent under-eye bags. Continuing to pile on makeup as each stroke does nothing, my arms grow weak from the exertion. Finally, I put down my sponge and look at myself in the mirror again. Wow. I almost look normal. I almost look like a normal teenage girl who has a life.
