igoldilocks
The most beautiful music he had ever heard.
This concept is too abstract to write about. I'm going to go have some spaghetti, kthx.
Self-destruction.
The alcohol was like fire rushing down his throat, threatening to incinerate him.
He couldn't help thinking that being burned alive would be a blessing -- it'd sure as hell be a lot less painful than what she did to him.
She couldn't stop laughing, and she hated herself for it.
Honestly, out of all the situations that she could be in right now, this was not the time for laughter.
It's not as if it was happy laughter -- no, it was definitely hysteria -- but still. All she could think was, "How did I get here?"
"Why am I here?"
"Why me?
No.
"Why him?"
It wasn't a wishy-washy feeling, and it wasn't just a few tears. It was an overwhelming emotion that threatened to knock me over, kind of like standing in front of a huge tidal wave and not knowing how to swim.
Useless.
Is that all that I am? Honestly, it's amazing how one person who used to care so much can't seem to even take the time to glance in my direction anymore.
I don't understand. Is it because I'm not good enough, or simply obsolete? There's something better out there, isn't there?