Charolette

Always wanted to be one of those burnouts. The kind people hear about on television because they’d just written a best selling novel and then entered detox. For some hardcore drug like heroine or coke.

I already had one foot in the door in that case.

“She’d dated some a*****e named Ezra. She put everything thing she had into that damn relationship. Needless to say it only fucked her up [more]. He’d call her at all hours of the night and tell her about the horrible things that his parents did to him. Which inevitably screwed her up, and just like that she’d be at school the next day. Acting all zombie-like.”

-Memory as noted by Sage.

I use to sit around and look at things and hope for a deep philosophical meaning.

When I realized just how much of a realist I can be.

Except for when it comes to love. Then I always look deeper. I always want more. Something about it just drives me wild and insane at the same time.

Occasionally I have to remind myself to pick up my sanity with my house keys in the morning before catching the bus. Otherwise I’m a bloody mess.

“Sometimes it seemed as though she bitched about everything. I’d rather have my own eyes clawed out with plastic sporks than hear anymore of that s**t at lunch. But that’s what she’s good at. Well granted she’s a good friend and all. And she good at being a b***h. There’s just no way around that one.

She was always wantin’ something that she could never have.

That must have been what got her attention.”

-Memory as noted by Jenelise.

Things happened so fast between the two of us. We’d know each other forever. When in all honesty the length of time we actually knew each other was the same as the time we’d been dating.

I was mysterious to you. Or in other words I was a beautiful lie that you couldn’t get your mind around.

You promised to love me and I believed you. Something I couldn’t get my mind around. And I didn’t care, it just made sense because you promised.

The pit of my stomach dropped as you said you loved her. Who she was I didn’t know or care.

You pressed flash one too many times and now your private conversation with her had become mine too.

Breathing became hard, contemplating my next inhale was even harder.

There wasn’t a damn thing I could do, besides feel like a failure at life. I should have never left the last one for you. I was now paying for what I’d done to him to have you.

I could suddenly grasp the concept and turning my phone off was the best option yet…

-Memory as noted by Charolette.

Reviews

[r]

That is so sad. I like how each of them are talking about Charolette in this chapter; it's nice to hear more about her. Stupid a*****e that she dated; grr to him.