#excerpt from a book i will never write

[writingthethoughtsaway]

“I believed you even when I knew you were lying.”

- S. C. C.

[letterstokami]

[love-letters-i-never-sent]

[heretoobsessstuff]

“we’re all gonna miss major Cleven, sir”.

Major Cleven John thought bitterly. Gale. Sweet beautiful Gale. Gale who was there. In the cockpit. Fighting for his life while John was sleeping next to a random woman. Gale who was falling from the sky. Living his last moments. Losing blood. In pain. Scared and cold and alone. While John was here in London. Drinking and coaxing a random woman to spend more time in his bed. Where was Gale now? His Gale. Laying on the dirt and mud somewhere? Lost in some distant German field with no one to look for him? His ocean blue eyes forever closed? What had become of him? Of his Gale? Was anything even left of him?

John felt sick with anger. His thoughts ran wild with no one to tame them. I should’ve never left him alone. I should’ve been up there with him. Protecting him. Looking out for him. It was supposed to be me and him left up in the sky. Not me in London and him lost somewhere I can never reach. It’s all my fault. I failed him. I failed him. Grief clawing at his throat. Suffocating him. His eyes stinging with unshed tears and the lump he had swollen down a hundred times with the alcohol. He needed to go. Avenge Buck. Or find him. Or join him. Wherever he was.

“Don’t worry Kenny” he said. Jumping into the Jeep. Hands shaking. “I don’t even feel it”.

Read Another drabble from Gale’s POV here:

[tellherium]

It was Never about You //

3 of 3: Poems From the First Evening I've Spent Alone in Over a Month

[hakaan05]

Please stay on my skin, stain my clothes, exchange breaths. Carve your existence into mine, go beyond just memories, leave a tangible scar. I don’t want to just remember you

[devanofficial]

childhood friendships be like, we played pretend everyday in kindergarten, we were mermaid dogs and potion makers and astronaut fairies, you gave me a strange look when i made up an underwater unicorn scenario in middle school, you bit my arm once in elementary school because you didn’t want to share the pirate ship wheel on the playground anymore, i still tell that story because i have a scar from your tooth, we did ballet and tap together but then went to different dance schools and it wasn’t the same, i quit after it messed up my ankles but i still kept your nutcracker christmas cards throughout high school and imagined us dancing together, we watched cinderella iii on dvd together and talked about how much better the prince was in the sequels, that was the last time i went over your house and i wish i had known that then, later i heard you talking about how weird i was to people i thought you didn’t like, you repeated things i said as examples but they had made you fall off the bed with laughter back then, i don’t understand when you outgrew me but i thought we had been girls together.

[myonlywayoutofhere]

“I want you to love me but I understand why you love her instead”

-day 599 (via myonlywayoutofhere)

[excerptsofstories]

She started walking away from him, and there was a brief look of desperation on his face. "Wait," he called out, hoping she would stay for just a bit longer. "Don't go." She turned around and hesitated, before saying, "It's over. You can tell me a thousand lies. You can say that you've never met anyone like me before. You can laugh at all my jokes and stare at me like I'm the only woman in the world. You can tell me that it's always been me. But at the end of the day, she's the one you go home to. And I finally understand that that's never going to change."

Excerpt from a book I will never write #1425

[blueloveonly]

I am a mosaic of all the people i have ever loved.

I carry pieces of them just as they carry pieces of my soul. I’m a whole person, just not entirely made by myself.

[writingthethoughtsaway]

“Do you have any idea of how many little things remind me of you everyday?”

- S. C. C.

[letterstokami]

[ashieeeesh]

Excerpt from a book I'll never write #1

Reader x leona, but leona is just mentioned

Note: i am not a writer, so this might not even be that good, or this does not make any sense. I apologise

__________________________________________

"I like Leona, and I know he knows. That's what I appreciate about him." I relaxed on my bed, feeling a small smile slowly creep in as Yuu looked at me in disbelief.

"But he doesn't care about you," Yuu said, scratching their head, bewildered by my feelings. In their hands was a small plastic bag, clearly a gift for me. Curiosity got the better of them, and they pulled out the object.

A blanket?

"Exactly. He doesn't care about me," I replied, taking the blanket from Yuu's hands. I noticed their shocked expression but didn't comment. Instead, I placed the blanket on my head, making it another makeshift pillow.

"You're not making any sense, Y/N," Yuu said. I turned my head to face them, looking at them softly. I can see the concern written on their face as they try to comprehend what their friend is trying to say.

"Leona doesn't care about the things I do, and I'm grateful for that. He doesn’t care about the things i do, the things i say, how rude i can be, or how apathetic i sometimes can be. He would just hum and ignore what i would say and let me do whatever i want. I don't have to lose my mind over every little thing around him—how I talk, walk, or act. I don't have to live up to his standards or walk on eggshells, wondering if I'll ever be good enough. I don’t to worry about what he thinks of me because he doesn’t care nor have the energy to think of how much of a bad person i am"

"So you like him because you can be yourself around him?" Yuu asked.

I blinked, took a deep breath, and draped the blanket Leona gave me over myself, turning away from Yuu. I muttered a soft goodnight, not bothering to check if they heard me.

I could feel Yuu's eyes on me, but I didn't care. I heard Yuu sigh and make themselves comfortable. All that remained was the soft buzzing of insects and the whistle of the wind.

"We bring out the worst in each other, but in the most comfortable way."

---

Yes, i am not a writer. No, i do not take criticism. i will cry.

I apologise if i dont make any sense

[tellherium]

my angel numbers have moved from 111 to 222 and I am doing my best to think more than ever

[lost-in-time-marie]

The air is still at 4 am and I find it pleases me, in the minutes and moments before the world really wakes up. We’re the only disturbance at this hour, the groan of my chair, the gentle whooshing of distant cars, the few chirps of the rare early bird. I can almost convince myself that time moves slow, pouring like molasses from the jar, instead of sand rushing through an hourglass. The air has been cold these days, and it is a welcome reprieve. The crispness of it fills my chest, I dig out my sweater and put it to use, my skin shrinking from the chill for a change. It doesn’t suffocate, it doesn’t drown, in fact, it invigorates. After all these years, my blood refuses to succumb to the heat; the rebellion, the rejection of this place is physically rooted in me.

When I stay up all night, I feel like a kid. I can still remember my childhood bedroom, shared with my sister, and the sleepover with her neighborhood friend. We bought Monsters and sodas and candies from the Dollar General in walking distance. Staying up all night was an event, a celebration, an adventure. I can still see the soft pink light and gentle baby blue of the sunrise over the houses across the way, as I sit on the marble sill of our second story window. I think somewhere in my trunk of the past, I still have a picture of that sunrise.

Abby is dead now, all that’s left of her are the few random shots we took on an old camera together, some of them with the eyes cut out from when I used to collage. And that’s the crazy thing about time, life, existence. Nobody tells you about how sunrises change and so do the people you greet them with, and sometimes people and places and times are gone and there’s no getting them back, and how, somehow, that fact is both devastatingly painful and, simultaneously, a thankful rejoice.

~K.

[hakaan05]

Confuse my lust with love, hold me gently and kiss me fully clothed. Confuse my love with lust, bruise my neck, hold my hand naked

Make love; lust. Foolish me to confuse red for an apple, a bone as a treat, your words as poetry.