Happy? Should I say I'm happy? I think I am. Writing did that to me. It's very, very hard but since I decided to really give it my best (which still may not be good enough), I've been more at peace with... Well, everything. I rarely get mad at people, I go through the day without hating myself, I made it to chapter six (not finished yet though)! Also, chatting and meeting with people who understand me and are, actually, interesting and intelligent helped quite a lot. (You know who you are! :P)
I've decided I won't kill Andy. He's much too nice and frankly, I kinda love him. I know he's fictional, I'm not crazy! But it's very comforting to write him. Andy will survive then. Unless the story evolves differently. Which, I hope, won't happen.
An old love of mine made contact recently. He hasn't said anything, just a facebook friend request and that's that. I can't believe how good it felt though! Yes, I remember that he broke my heart once but I'm pretty sure I broke his, as well. And I'm also certain that, in a way, the young girl I was once, is still in love with him. I kept his poems, after all. I wonder if he kept mine?
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