Life is a story.
Every day is a new chapter with new characters and interests.
Every day is a chance to move the story along, introduce a new conflict to keep your readers hooked.
Life is an adventure novel.
Each page is used to tell your journey through life, to let the reader live through you.
Even if you wish you were the reader and not the protagonist.
Even if you feel like you are your own antagonist.
Life wasn’t supposed to be a romance novel.
He wasn’t supposed to waltz in and become your Christian Gray, your Edward or Jacob.
He wasn’t supposed to mean so much to you.
You wonder if your author is playing a joke on you.
Who took the story and changed the genre so drastically?
Maybe it was always a romance, and you were just too blind.
Maybe all the guys you helped on your adventures were possible soulmates.
Maybe he decided the genre should change.
But he can’t be your Edward; your Christian Gray.
He was written into someone else’s story already. This is no romance novel, no.
This is a heart-breaking adventure where the protagonist just wants to get through life.
I just want to get through life.
I can’t keep my mind off of the way you make me feel.
I get genuinely happy when I talk to you
And see your smile.
I can’t help but fall deeper in love with you
When you make me feel this way
I can’t keep myself from hearing your voice in my head.
All you have to do is speak
And every nerve in my body is calm.
No more anxiety, no more depression,
No more constant thoughts;
Everything falls silent.
I can’t stop feeling your hands on my body–
The way you hold me when I’m crying
And can’t do anything but
Wish I was dead.
I feel your hand running through my hair;
You’re teasing me, trying to make me
Fall asleep when you and I
Both know I shouldn’t.
But that’s why you do it.
I can’t stop myself from texting you because
******* you’re the only person
Who can stand to talk to me
For more than two minutes
Because I’m such a clingy mess and
No one wants to clean this up.
Neither do you,
But you can bear to live
Next to it.
I can’t stop myself from sending these messages
Because I finally found
Something to write about,
Grim as it may be.
I thought about
Everything I love
And you came to mind.
You, you, you
through my mind
And for once,
I don’t want the
Three days. I have been a secret for much longer,
but you have forgotten me for three days.
You put me in the back of your mind without a glance,
making me fear for my life.
Do I even exist outside of your memory?
Am I truly more than a thought you have to keep secret?
Could I go out into the world and
have someone notice me for more?
Do I exist without you?
Three days. I worried for three days.
My texts went unread, calls unanswered, I thought you were dead.
I didn’t do anything but worry for three days.
It was then that I learned
I was only a secret.
You can take this mess of symbols and metaphors
while I try desperately to stay atop of
the tidal waves of my fear caused by
I guess his words mean more to you
than mine ever will.
After all, I’m just
Your best-kept secret
and your biggest mistake
— The End —