laurenjk asked: Your writing is wonderful :) <3

Thank you so very much :)

Her name is Athelia, but she knows no more than that. She lies on the dirt, muddied by the rain, her hair sticking to her face and neck. There’s clouds up above, dark, heavy with perspiration, and she curls up into herself, much like a child in a fetal position. Voices can be heard from a short distance and she perks up a little, but is still much too weak to move much. She hears her name being called, and tries to move, only to find herself in a puddle of blood that is seeping into the ground around her. Slowly, she gives up and collapses into herself, watching the life fade away between thick eyelashes and raindrops. There are arrows being fired and a battle going on not far away, she knows this, but this battle is her last, and with one more deep breath, she drifts off into the dark.

He firsts opens his eyes, his eyelashes fluttering, those beautiful emerald irises adjusting to the light. I can feel him move, turning over, pulling the sheet over his head to block the light, but it’s too late; he’s been roused. I hear the coffee maker turn on in the room next door, preparing itself for another day. We lay there in silence as the birds outside sing to us. He wraps his arms around me, almost protectively, like a mother would her child. I breathe him in, the smell of cologne and sweat mixing together to create a scent that’s uniquely him. Finally, he speaks. “We’re broken, aren’t we, you and I?” I nod a little, swallowing. The sheets are warm from our body heat and I don’t want to move because I’m so comfortable and at peace, but he’s stirring up emotions again. “But our pasts don’t make us who we are…they just help shape us into becoming who we’re supposed to be,” I respond, not wanting to have this conversation once again. “How can I forget what changed me?” He asks, not expecting an answer, and I give him none but instead watch his chest rise and fall with each breath. “The accident wasn’t your fault,” I say for the millionth time, snuggling a little closer to him for warmth. He gets angry, like expected. “God, damnit, Alex! Yes, it was.” He throws off the covers, exposing me to cold air, and I huddle beneath the blankets, scared. “You promised you’d forget about it and move on,” I remind him softly, but he’s clenching his fists, unmovable.

breannarachel asked: you're an amazing writer! (:

Thanks so very much! :)

Why do I feel like you’re always out of reach? Like, no matter how hard I try to grasp onto you, you pull backwards, refusing. It wasn’t always like this. We used to be inseparable. Maybe we weren’t voted cutest couple of the year and sometimes our friends disagreed that we should be together, but we fought through it. We told each other, “Let’s make this happen.” But now we’re tumbling, falling, and no matter how hard I try to explain it to you time and time again, you refuse to listen. I get the same feeling every time: I’m standing on the edge of a cliff, looking down, so close to falling, teetering on the edge of my heels. Then, comes the plunge…and it’s like I’m submerged underwater, and I can’t breathe, and the water fills up my lungs, drowning me. You tell me I’m being overdramatic, that this time is our last, and I’m scrambling again for feelings and emotions I’m afraid I do not possess to make you feel better. It was always about you, wasn’t it? You said the same about me; that the world revolved around me and that my mood determined yours. How could two people so close become like separate continents? Look at this ocean between us. Tell me it’s killing you too. Tell me that late at night you think of me and all the mistakes you made and inside, you forgive me for the ones I’ve made too. Because I don’t know how much longer I can handle this.

Here I am, once again, so close to falling. I describe this moment to you many times, over and over again, yet you do not believe. You say you must see it to believe it, but how could I let you watch me break? You tell me that you want to see me crumble, that this world wasn’t meant to be fought against. Embrace your emotions, you say. You always pushed me to my limits. Maybe that’s why I kept you around for so long. But I cannot let you watch me shatter. Once exposed, you’ll see who I really am. You’ll see I’m not as tough as I act and that I’m just as sensitive as any other teenage girl. I want to be different, strong, and immobile. Don’t touch me, you’re too close…don’t say those words, I’ll break down and it will be over. This illusion I’ve tried to maintain will fade away and each tear will be a reminder of what I’ve tried so hard to leave behind. Let me be fierce, let me be resilient. Let each breaking blow change me instead of weaken me. For I am not as pathetic as you think I am beneath this façade. I can be just as strong as you. Let me try. Let me fight. Let me win.

lepidine asked: i don't know you, but you're a brilliant writer

That’s the absolute best comment you can give me, so thank you so much!

A heart can only be broken so many times before it refuses to comply. Some build walls around it, others let it go to ruin with each falling blow. A heart is a precious thing, the container of all emotions, foremost being love. My heart had seen so much already and experienced beyond what a normal heart should. I was young and let myself run free in a world that I believed had no real restrictions to what a heart could feel. Little did I know that there were limits and boundaries as vast as a sea, but could tighten within moments, threatening to squeeze the very light out of a heart. People wonder why other people turn cold, and what made them that way. I would not blame them if heartbreak turned them sour and left them to contemplate ever loving again. For, a heart is a fragile thing, and not just an organ inside, beating. Without a heart, one cannot live. Without love, one cannot live. So, as I’m sitting here, thinking about you and our hearts and how they beat at different paces like a drummer always being just slightly offbeat, I begin to make boundaries within myself. Here I am, building up walls. A stone for each time you hurt my feelings, another brick for each insult and curse. I’ll blame this on you, but it’s only my way of self-preservation. I want to keep what’s left of my heart untouched and ready for someone who is worthy; someone that won’t tarnish it or break it into two like you did so quickly, so forcefully, too sudden.

allonimo asked: I love your blog! You are such a talented writer. I only wish you would write on it more often! ((:

I’ll try! Thanks so much! :)

deoxynicole-deactivated20101108 asked: wow. i am blown away by your creative genius! your writing is amazing and i am so glad i found your blog!

Gosh, thanks so much! :D

gretchens-weiner asked: you are a truely amazing writer<3
i love reading your stories :3

Thank you SO much! Wow :D

desireofagirl asked: i love your blog! <3 =]

Thank you so much! It’s basically all writing though haha

c0nstellation-deactivated201105 asked: Your an amazing writer ;D

WOW, thank you sooo much! <333 That’s the best compliment you can give me :)

saysthecrow asked: Ah! You have a writing blog too?! This is so awesome, haha :) I only skimmed through, I'll be reading everything in a few, but what I did see looks absolutely amazing! xxxx

Thank you so, so much! <3 I’ll try to update it more often :)

Once we reached my house, I bolted from the vehicle, not bothering to look back at what sort of sad expression would be upon Bryan’s face. I had to be strong, for myself. Maybe I did overreact, maybe I was being a bit of a drama queen, but my high hopes had been crushed under the steel boots of reality, and I couldn’t handle that. Too many years I have waited for him, played the role of best friend while he bounced from girl to girl, never learning from his mistakes. I didn’t even wave out the window casually as he pulled away, tires squealing in the rain, like I usually did. Instead, I ran into my room and collapsed onto my bed, before rolling over and staring above me, as if heaven above could give me an answer. I started counting the cracks in the ceiling, and then imagining that it was my heart, and each crack was every time Bryan let me down. Somehow, no matter where my thoughts went, Bryan trailed along like a lost puppy. I needed a release; I was so tense and wound-up. I knew a phone call would be coming from Kayla soon about last night and I didn’t want any more drama until I had pumped some energy out of my system.

I pulled off my nicer clothes and changed into shorts and a cut-off t-shirt before heading downstairs. In the basement was a punching bag, hanging heavily as if one more pound of sand would cave in the room.  I bounced a little on the tips of my toes before attacking it, pounding my anger into the fabric, leaving indents behind of my knuckles. Tears and sweat combined together, until I couldn’t tell what perspiration was and what were the results of my intense emotions at that state. Suddenly, a soft voice came from behind me. “Alex, are you okay?” I turned around to face my younger sister. She was a few years younger than me, but we were extremely close. I never told her I was gay, not yet. How do you tell someone that looks up to you so much that you weren’t like most guys? I couldn’t say, “Ashley, I’m sorry to break it to you, but you probably will never have a sister-in-law, Dad will hate me and place all of his future on your shoulders and the image of me kissing another man is one you have to be comfortable with, because this is me.” I couldn’t do it. I just couldn’t. 

“Does it look like I’m okay?” I snapped, and then relaxed when I saw she was gingerly holding a pair of boxing gloves out for me. In my rage, I had forgotten to put them on and know my hands were bleeding. My cold tone didn’t push Ashley away. If there was one quality that Ashley had that I wish I owned, it was that she shrugged things off and never let things get to her. She didn’t freak out like I did. I think she was more of a guy than I was sometimes; it was more like I was playing the role of what was expected of a guy, when I really didn’t enjoy sports or video games as much as I probably should have.

“I’m sorry, I’m fine,” I said, and took the gloves from her hands as she looked at me knowingly.

“Ha! You expect me to believe that?” she said, plopping herself onto a bean bag nearby and turning on the t.v. to some MTV show I wasn’t familiar with. “Who broke your heart?”

I felt my breath catch in my throat. Lying to her was impossible; she knew me far too well. “Someone I thought had feelings for me, but turned out they didn’t.”

“Are you talking about Violet? Give me the name of the girl I’m going to have to beat up,” she said, half-jokingly. She was so protective of me. Wasn’t it supposed to be the other way?

“It wasn’t a-“ I almost said girl, but changed it at the last second, “-big deal.” The phone rang upstairs and I ran to get it, reading the caller id. It was Kayla. My heart stopped beating for a moment.

“Hello?” I answered, taking the phone with me to my room.

“Alex, you will never believe what happened last night!” she gushed, and I almost sighed out loud at what was inevitable.

“Actually, Bryan and I already talked about it…” I tried to say as nonchalantly as I could.

“Oh.” She sounded disappointed that she couldn’t divulge me with details.

“Yeah, Kayla, there’s something I need to tell you.”

“What is it? He doesn’t have a girlfriend, so I don’t see what the big deal is.” She was upset now, just as I predicted.

“He’s not into you. It was a mistake,” I said, hesitantly.

“You’re lying! You weren’t there when everything happened- when did he even tell you this? When you two left for that make-out session or whatever you two spent forever in the car doing? Smoking roofies?” she was livid, and I barely even had explained myself. Was she actually jealous of me? A beeping over took her words and I looked down to see a number I had been dreading; it was Bryan again.

“Look, Kayla, I’m really sorry, but you’re going to have to talk to Bryan about this yourself. I’m tired of being the one in the middle that has to deal with all your relationship problems, okay?”

I heard the clicking sound of her hanging up on me and hung up as well. I was still sweaty, laying on the carpet of my room, when the phone rang again. I picked it up, and a surprisingly gentle tone came over the line. “Come outside,” he said.

“No,” I protested, almost like a child, but I was being stubborn.

He exhaled and we sat in silence for a few seconds before I hastily agreed. I walked down the steps and into the foyer, then past the living room, straight to the door. I didn’t even care that I was drenched and smelly and in need of a shower. He didn’t seem to care either, because, as soon as I opened the door, Bryan pulled me by the hand and kissed me.