email two - the article

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little disclaimer: i really tried with this, wholeheartedly i did. writing this was harder than i expected for a couple reasons: 1) it's an article, so as much as i wanted to include more of harry's perspective, articles like this aren't meant to be so personal. 2) i haven't written something this analytic in a looong time. writing this was like time warping back to my high school days lol so please keep an open mind when you read

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There are tears in her eyes; real tears, brimming and threatening to spill. She can't be sure whether she's crying out of relief or guilt. Without so much as taking a breath, she exits Harry's first email and pulls up the second one. This time, the only text is a hyperlink to a website.

"Read it now," she whispers to herself. "Before you talk yourself out of it."

She's already here, curled up in front of her computer with her heart cracked open. May as well get it over with. A blurry thought crosses her mind as she stares at the link; something about ripping off the band-aid.

When she clicks on the link, it takes her to her internet browser; she waits with bated breath as a loading icon appears, before she's brought to a website for a newspaper based in London.

When she clicks on the link, it takes her to her internet browser; she waits with bated breath as a loading icon appears, before she's brought to a website for a newspaper based in London

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***

It is a simple lesson we learn as children; the world is not kind, and people are not always as they seem. If you are raised by people who love you, you are taught to tread carefully around those you do not know and to persevere when others let you down. As we age, it becomes clear (to some more than others) that life is about learning what's important to us, what is worth living for, and weeding out the things that do not matter. Surviving today requires a quiet sort of bravery that accompanies the innate kindness of many people.

I used to think the most important thing I could ever do was become a famous writer. It didn't matter what else I did, I just wanted my name to be known. After an eternity of writing in the shadows, I was finally given the opportunity to realize this dream. I went to America on a mission; to write the most enthralling story I could find, so that people would finally know who I am.

It's taken me nearly twenty-five years to understand that recognition is not everything.

Mere weeks ago, whilst roaming around the southeastern U.S., I found myself at a complete loss. I thought I was unhappy in England, where my life was remarkably unremarkable, but even after being given the chance to make a name for myself, which I had so desired for a long time, I was lost. My big break was coming to an end. I was wrestling with the impending knowledge that I had failed, and at the one thing I was supposed to be good at.

And then I met her - at a diner in Kingsland, Georgia, I wandered in one late night and saw her sitting alone. She must've just arrived, she was still looking over the menu. She looked at me with such innocence and timidity that I was instantly attracted to her, but then we began talking and I quickly realized how much of a godsend this woman was.

the brave ones // h.s.Where stories live. Discover now