Others Like Us

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksie Classic

Submitted: October 30, 2016

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Submitted: October 30, 2016





Truth be told, I’m not perfect either.


Honestly, I’m weak. It’s true I’m so weak, and it shows through.

The day I left is not my worst memory. I would have thought so but it’s not.


My life is filled with these crappy relationships. I don’t care about them in a sense Nicholas Sparks does. Love. The word has been used up so much I don’t know the fuck it means.


I do know what I mean when I meet someone like you. And what I feel is so special and random that I might not live it a second time.


Though, you can’t hold on to something based on its value. You can but you’ll miss it. You won’t enjoy or savour it. You’re going to fucking lose it. Like I lost whoever you were. Who were you?

Who are you still? Is it still possible to hang on to a feeling that I’ve ignited, possibly on my very own, that you weren’t actually a part of? You were just the cover, the actor in all of my frames I daren’t take down. In all my homes, there you were.


I don’t know how to reach you, what to call you, and where to find you. I mean the real you this time. I promise though, I will look, I will discover the hell hole you’ve been living in and mostly, I promise, this won’t be a fucking love novel.

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