unremarkably
The days turned into months and months turned into years but you still stuck by my side throughout every cold, harsh winter and every slipping tears. But, it's funny now how when I look at you today I see hatred radiating from you and a deep sense inside of you that I was never good enough for you and I will never be good enough for you and we will always be facing different ends. Rivalry is funny to me, because rivalry doesn't always have had to exist for it to be there at once.
She was glowing. It seemed to him that even in these dark times when everything seemed like it was crashing down, she was the calm center of it all. The eye of the hurricane. In the midst of the overpowering darkness, she glowed. And he loved her for it.
please not this word
my brain is stuck in thinking
I thought of football as soon as I'd seen it
though, I don't have much experience
not one to play sports though I never have been
never been in a huddle, not once
I suppose that this is for imagination
though the amount of writer's block I have doesn't help much
I must admit
A fleet of ships floated gracefully on the water beneath them, looking more so like a parade than officers destined to fight for our country.
We've all been stupid before but you were the stupidest one of us all with the stubborn head and the desire to leave. I guess that's why you joined America's Fleet, so you could leave and travel the world. But you didn't think about what being a navy officer really meant, did you? I guess that's why you were killed. Stupidity and longing to run.
My grandmother used to sew in the dark nights of the war. She would sit on the same couch in the same spot and sew with the needle that was far too large to be necessary. Quilting was her habit. I still have the blanket that she was quilting for me, the one she was quilting when she died on that couch. It seems a bit morbid I suppose, but it was what I did for her. The only thing I had from her left.
The soft blanket lay sprawled across my bed, untouched. My friend had dared to touch it the other day only to get yelled at as a response. A precious heirloom was exactly what it was. Sure the quilt was raggedy and barely sewn together but she had made it. The one who was gone now. A blanket quilted with love.
The word perfect was clearly unachievable now. My life was supposed to be flawless, blemishes simply not allowed - no alterations required. But here I was, a mess on the floor in my bathroom, clutching tissue in my small shivering hands. It almost seems funny now.