Thursday with a story…

This story is written by me myself. This is not a true story, and I didn’t have anyone in mind when I wrote this. (yeah right, now I’m bullshitting…) Enjoy and please leave a comment</3

She laughed and threw the pillow at him. He dodged it and smiled the little crooked smile he knew she loved. How could those blue eyes seem so cold, and yet shine so warm? She didn’t knew. They had just watched a movie, and then gone to bed. That night was the first time she kissed him. She remembered it well, her hand on his cheek, and his soft trembling lips under hers.

They were walking, snow under their shoes. His hand so warm around hers. Sometimes he’d let go, because his fingers was stiff, hurting, from holding her hand so long.

The sun made his eyes glow, like the bright sky above them. She memorized his features, his face, the way he walked, the way his lips moved when he spoke, and the way his eyes always found hers. Summer. He was her summer.

He held her, his arms strong around her, not capturing her, but keeping her safe. He breathed in and she breathed out, in the same steady pace. Yes, she did remember all this, and she still does. But she remembers so much more. She remembered his stormy blue eyes. But those was not only the ones she remembered. Deep golden, filled with pride, and the joy of existence.

She looked into the longing blue for a short, cold moment. The pain ate her from the inside, and ripped her chest open, and crawled out in daylight. And when the daylight died, left he her, shattered on the floor.

She sat on the wet ground. Months later, searching for the light that left her, but she drowned. Not able to hold her breath or even hold herself together. She was way beyond repair.

A half year after was when she was done crying, even though she still could hear the echoes of her screams. She lay on the floor, with her face turned down. Then she remembered. Those golden eyes.

you’re just a friend to me, he said. But as she stared into the deeps of his golden eyes, she found what she had lost. She found her heart, with almost every missing piece.

Maybe, and only maybe she would be able to heal her heart. Or lose it to those golden eyes. if she haven’t already done so.

-Kiba.

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What do you people think about….

One question I keep asking myself is, what’s the point with life. Well, I can’t say that money doesn’t matter to me. I’m just one of those who dream about a big house with many bathrooms. But I’m trying to see the other side. Think about those who eat whatever they find. Those who live on the street, and have no home to return to. Some might think that’s their own fault. So I want to make a change….but what can I do? Give away money? Well, the first thing is the question: whats really important in life? money? love? a big family and a lovely home? That important job of yours? And when writing this I remembered the saying that is something like “when you are busy collecting stones….” (pleaseplease leave a comment if you know this!)  If I got to know more about whats important in life for others than myself, maybe that would help me make some small changes… Well…One thing I can do is draw, so maybe I could make art, sell it and then give away the money to some organization or something…. (any ideas? well, leave a comment!)

um… I realize my English is pretty bad, but I hope I have made it understandable…

-Kiba.
Queen of Broken.