When it comes to love, there's so much I don't seem to understand...
Why?
Why did she choose me to love
Why did I only halfway choose her back
Why?
Why did she look to me with so much love
While for me she only satisfied a need.
She chose me, and I loved that I was chose. I loved...to be chose. Chosen. Choose me. I want nothing but it. I want nothing more than to be picked. I long for it.
Why is it that when she picked me. I treated it like it was nothing. Everyday of 10th grade summer we spent together. Through the long days we see each other and longer nights we'd sleep on the phone.
She was my first thought of everyday, one that never left. Her being was an endless dream, that seemed to pick to be in my brain. Day and night.
I wished nothing more than to be picked by her...to be loved...by her.
This constant battle weighed heavily on me.
However
Soon, I was 17, with a new sense of being. A new stride to my walk. These days I wanted to be chose by anyone in my way. The slow pace that was once love in my life, was just too slow for this race. She was too slow for my race.
I no longer cared to be chose by her.
If I'm being completely honest, I forgot all about her.
Wrapped up in my own mind. While 17 was good at first, these days it wasn't as kind as it used to be. The trees are less green. The birds stopped chirping and replaced their songs and melodies with chastised chants of me.
The real problem was I suppose...is that no one...no longer wanted to pick me.
In the end...
I'll always love to be picked
By her...
If she wanted to pick me
Or if she had to pick me
I'll always be picked...
That's just how this life goes.
-Nina
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Anchor [BxB]
किशोर उपन्यासThis is the story of how I die... It's a funny story really but kind of not funny at all. The water rushes under the door, filling up the closet at a fast pace. There's nowhere left for me to run. My screams are no longer screams but low cries. My b...
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