"You said, no you sang, you sang that everything was gonna be alright. You said that we'll be alright, Harry. But did you mean that?"
Where Belle Olivia Granger encounters five young boys who happen to be in the biggest boyband on the planet, and sh...
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Sunflower, Vol. 6.
A simple romance that isn't really that simple. It's about a young girl who travels from America to study abroad in college, dreaming of becoming an esteemed writer like the glorious authors she's spent her entire childhood looking up to. This young girl is naive and hopeful, dreaming of a life that she's been told she can never achieve, therefore hindering her emotionless until she meets a daring British gentleman with eyes so green and inviting that they quite literally melt her heart from the cold and icy bars that have kept it entrapped for so many years of her short life.
Sound familiar?
Writing this book that goes by the title of Sunflower, Vol. 6 has been challenging to say the least, and I'm not even half way through it. My concept for the story has grown and changed with me so much since Niall first graced me with the idea that I should pursue a career as an author, that I've had to start over from scratch more than once, and I'm still struggling to get the words out on paper that I like.
Throughout the summer and even now as we grow nearer to Christmas, I've continuously beaten myself up over every little thing, every aspect of the book seeming wrong from the characters' names to the setting.
For months, years even, my mind has been an endless ocean, brimming with so much pain, hurt, and most of all love, that I should have no issues putting all of that into these characters, but every time I think I get close, something comes up in my life that I have to stop and come back to it later.
It's my own fault just like my mother said.
This is my own fault and no one else's.
Ever since I was a little girl, I've been terribly shy and felt no remorse about spending more time alone with my thoughts, music, and a good book over a physical human being with a brain who would probably only want to gossip and complain. But what I didn't realize is that by not doing that kind of stuff, the kind of stuff that teenagers are supposed to do, I was hindering myself.
I was hindering myself from learning and growing.
I was hindering myself from finding out who I am, and the person I want to become.
I thought I found myself through Harry and the boys, but maybe I haven't. Come to think of it, I don't even know if I was truly developing into the woman my mother would be proud of, or just becoming someone I thought Harry would love, because after so many years of despising the four letter word, I've grown to need it to survive.
I am so in love with Harry Styles that it hurts, but myself? How can I love myself if I've been spending every moment since Jane Granger died, wondering who the hell I even am?
