I wrote about him. He was the person my stories were about. Not some random guy with his name or his eyes or his smile. Not some random guy I made up in my head that talked like he did. And for the first time I didn't create another world for me to live in. Because I loved the world I lived in because he was part of it.
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The Art of Mending A Broken Heart
Короткий рассказI don't think it's about finding myself as much as it is about remaking myself. I had been this girl for awhile, and then I started changing. Heading in a new direction blindfolded. I think it's time to take the blindfold off and create myself with...
