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legendx3

Status: Please read my stories <heart3

Member Since: 29 Jun 2012 01:27am

Last Seen: 16 Dec 2017 11:43pm

Location: America

Gender: F

user id: 313081

157 Quotes
79 Favorites
4 Following
181 Followers
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I take pictures.
I have a kissing pact. 
I dance because it's fun, not to look hot or because I have to.
I wear glasses.
I laugh at my own jokes.
I read lots of books.
Last but not least, I write for the intrinsic pleasure of writing, not because I have to or because it'll make me look awesome (even though it does).
  1. legendx3 legendx3
    posted a quote
    February 1, 2013 8:09pm UTC
    They're Just Words
    HI LOVLIES. Do you want me to notify you when I put up a new chapter on Wattpad? Slash, do you want me to notify you in a quote or on your profile?

  2. legendx3 legendx3
    posted a quote
    January 31, 2013 10:56pm UTC
    Him:
    If I had an endless amount of money, the first thing I'd do is fly you out to California, take you to the beach, and read Harry Potter. Because it's about time you read that series. Then, we'd get on a plane to Ireland and watch all the movies. And then I'd buy a domestic bear.

  3. legendx3 legendx3
    posted a quote
    January 28, 2013 8:48am UTC
    They're Just Words
    TO MY BEAUTIFUL READERS
    I'm so sorry for the long way. I just put the first chapter of this story up on Wattpad and will continue it on that website. My username is going_on_seventeen. I hope you don't hate me because I LOVE you guys <3 Thanks so much for all your support. I've been having a hard time lately and it means a lot to me.

  4. legendx3 legendx3
    posted a quote
    January 18, 2013 11:32pm UTC
    They're Just Words
    Yayyy Witty's working again! All you have to do is press "click on this quote" on my profile to see my stories. Sorry it took so long. Love you guys <3

  5. legendx3 legendx3
    posted a quote
    January 18, 2013 11:26pm UTC
    They're Just Words
    Seven
    The next time I saw Max was after my three-hour shift at Starbucks on Friday.
    He’d come at exactly five o’clock, and I knew why.
    He knew I’d be done with work, which meant he needed to tell me something important.
    I immediately threw off my apron and ran over to him, hugging him as tight as I could.
    “Max!” I breathed into his shirt. “I haven’t heard from you in days. Are you okay? How’s Clare?”
    His eyes were pained and bloodshot.
    He bit his lip and looked down at me.
    “That’s what I came here to talk to you about,” he said gravely, pointing to the sofa to my right. “Let’s sit. Did you get your coffee yet?”
    “Yeah,” I said, shaking my half-empty cup in his face.
    He didn’t laugh, just sat slumped down onto the cushioned sofa and looked over at me sadly.
    “We found out who the father of my sister’s baby was,” he said, swallowing nervously.
    “Who?” I pressed, putting my hand on his knee.
    He flinched and moved my hand off of his leg, making my brow crease in confusion.
    Why was he acting so strange around me all of a sudden?
    “It was your brother,” he choked. “And I think it would be best if we stopped hanging out. It’ll just make things more complicated than they already are.”
    ***
    “You stupid, stupid pig!” I cried, shoving my brother’s drunken body against the wall on Friday night.
    He pursed his swollen lips in pain and huffed a breath of air.
    His brown hair was messy, sticking up in all the wrong places.
    His shirt was unbuttoned at the top, revealing a least five bruises.
    I’d decided to stay home instead of going out with him to give myself time to contemplate everything that had happened within these past few weeks.
    “Cara,” he slurred, “Cara. Stop it.”
    “How could you get my best friend’s sister pregnant?” I yelled at him.
    “Cara, I had so much fun tonight,” he said, looking dreamily up at the ceiling. “I danced so much that my feet started to hurt.”
    My jaw clenched angrily as I pushed him against the living room wall again.
    “You stupid…you stupid idiot!” I screamed, tears miserably running down my face at three in the morning. “How could you be so careless?”
    “What is going on here?” I suddenly heard a raspy voice say from behind me.
    “Nothing,” I muttered, trying to walk by my mother and towards my room, but her hand stopped me.
    “What happened?” she demanded, searching my eyes. “Why are you crying?”
    “Ask Drake when he’s sober,” I sneered, pushing her away from me and running into my room.
    I locked my door and threw myself on my bed, crying into my arms to muffle the sound a little bit.
    My family couldn’t afford a baby.
    Drake didn’t even have a proper job!
    Sure, he graduated high school, but just barely.
    He didn’t even have an impressive resume or any real experience with work.
    How was he going to be able to raise a child?
    What if Max never spoke to me again?
    This was possibly the worst thing that had happened to my family in a very long time, and my family goes through a lot of bad stuff.
    My cries soon turned into gasps; I hadn’t realized how much I missed that feeling, of not being able to breathe after crying for so long.
    End it, a little voice whispered in my head. Break the skin.
    I flung myself to a sitting position and reached for the scissors in my nightstand drawer, opening them to an angle that would cut perfectly through my skin.
    I locked my door and got my “First Aid Kit” box out from underneath my bed in preparation; it was like a procedure, the whole thing.
    I pressed the sharp blade to my wrist and cut, deep enough that it hurt, but shallow enough that the bleeding would eventually stop if the wound was taken care of properly.
    My mouth opened slightly, gasping as blood trickled around my arm, running in circles across the circumference of my wrist.
    I tear dripped off my chin, even though I’d stopped crying at that point.
    I immediately reached for the gauze in the little white box below me and carefully wrapped it around my arm.
    After taking a few deep breaths, I was able to put the box back under my bed and clean off my scissors so I could use them next time I felt like cutting.
    I knew it was stupid.
    I knew cutting was a sign of weakness, but that’s why I kept it a secret.
    People needed to know I could take care of myself, and trust me, if they knew I cut my wrists, they would automatically assume I wasn’t stable enough to look out for myself or my family.
    I lay in bed, looking up at the electro band posters on my ceiling for what seemed like hours.
    I didn’t even recognize the names of some of the bands I had posted on the walls in my bedroom, so I stood up on my bed and started ripping them all off, crumpling them into little balls and attempting to throw them into the trashcan beside my desk.
    No more pretending to be someone I’m not.
    No more being anybody but myself.

  6. legendx3 legendx3
    posted a quote
    January 11, 2013 6:52pm UTC
    They're Just Words
    Seven
    The next time I saw Max was after my three-hour shift at Starbucks on Friday.
    He’d come at exactly five o’clock, and I knew why.
    He knew I’d be done with work, which meant he needed to tell me something important.
    I immediately threw off my apron and ran over to him, hugging him as tight as I could.
    “Max!” I breathed into his shirt. “I haven’t heard from you in days. Are you okay? How’s Clare?”
    His eyes were pained and bloodshot.
    He bit his lip and looked down at me.
    “That’s what I came here to talk to you about,” he said gravely, pointing to the sofa to my right. “Let’s sit. Did you get your coffee yet?”
    “Yeah,” I said, shaking my half-empty cup in his face.
    He didn’t laugh, just sat slumped down onto the cushioned sofa and looked over at me sadly.
    “We found out who the father of my sister’s baby was,” he said, swallowing nervously.
    “Who?” I pressed, putting my hand on his knee.
    He flinched and moved my hand off of his leg, making my brow crease in confusion.
    Why was he acting so strange around me all of a sudden?
    “It was your brother,” he choked. “And I think it would be best if we stopped hanging out. It’ll just make things more complicated than they already are.”
    ***
    “You stupid, stupid pig!” I cried, shoving my brother’s drunken body against the wall on Friday night.
    He pursed his swollen lips in pain and huffed a breath of air.
    His brown hair was messy, sticking up in all the wrong places.
    His shirt was unbuttoned at the top, revealing a least five bruises.
    I’d decided to stay home instead of going out with him to give myself time to contemplate everything that had happened within these past few weeks.
    “Cara,” he slurred, “Cara. Stop it.”
    “How could you get my best friend’s sister pregnant?” I yelled at him.
    “Cara, I had so much fun tonight,” he said, looking dreamily up at the ceiling. “I danced so much that my feet started to hurt.”
    My jaw clenched angrily as I pushed him against the living room wall again.
    “You stupid…you stupid idiot!” I screamed, tears miserably running down my face at three in the morning. “How could you be so careless?”
    “What is going on here?” I suddenly heard a raspy voice say from behind me.
    “Nothing,” I muttered, trying to walk by my mother and towards my room, but her hand stopped me.
    “What happened?” she demanded, searching my eyes. “Why are you crying?”
    “Ask Drake when he’s sober,” I sneered, pushing her away from me and running into my room.
    I locked my door and threw myself on my bed, crying into my arms to muffle the sound a little bit.
    My family couldn’t afford a baby.
    Drake didn’t even have a proper job!
    Sure, he graduated high school, but just barely.
    He didn’t even have an impressive resume or any real experience with work.
    How was he going to be able to raise a child?
    What if Max never spoke to me again?
    This was possibly the worst thing that had happened to my family in a very long time, and my family goes through a lot of bad stuff.
    My cries soon turned into gasps; I hadn’t realized how much I missed that feeling, of not being able to breathe after crying for so long.
    End it, a little voice whispered in my head. Break the skin.
    I flung myself to a sitting position and reached for the scissors in my nightstand drawer, opening them to an angle that would cut perfectly through my skin.
    I locked my door and got my “First Aid Kit” box out from underneath my bed in preparation; it was like a procedure, the whole thing.
    I pressed the sharp blade to my wrist and cut, deep enough that it hurt, but shallow enough that the bleeding would eventually stop if the wound was taken care of properly.
    My mouth opened slightly, gasping as blood trickled around my arm, running in circles across the circumference of my wrist.
    I tear dripped off my chin, even though I’d stopped crying at that point.
    I immediately reached for the gauze in the little white box below me and carefully wrapped it around my arm.
    After taking a few deep breaths, I was able to put the box back under my bed and clean off my scissors so I could use them next time I felt like cutting.
    I knew it was stupid.
    I knew cutting was a sign of weakness, but that’s why I kept it a secret.
    People needed to know I could take care of myself, and trust me, if they knew I cut my wrists, they would automatically assume I wasn’t stable enough to look out for myself or my family.
    I lay in bed, looking up at the electro band posters on my ceiling for what seemed like hours.
    I didn’t even recognize the names of some of the bands I had posted on the walls in my bedroom, so I stood up on my bed and started ripping them all off, crumpling them into little balls and attempting to throw them into the trashcan beside my desk.
    No more pretending to be someone I’m not.
    No more being anybody but myself.

  7. legendx3 legendx3
    posted a quote
    January 10, 2013 6:36pm UTC
    They're Just Words
    Note to my readers
    Chapter 7 won't upload, guys. I'm sorry. I haven't a clue why because there was nothing inappropriate about it and there were absolutely no swears, so I don't know why Witty won't allow me to post it. Sorry again :'( Keep clam & wait until tomorrow? I love you guys!

  8. legendx3 legendx3
    posted a quote
    January 10, 2013 6:33pm UTC
    They're Just Words
    Seven
    The next time I saw Max was after my three-hour shift at Starbucks on Friday.
    He’d come at exactly five o’clock, and I knew why.
    He knew I’d be done with work, which meant he needed to tell me something important.
    I immediately threw off my apron and ran over to him, hugging him as tight as I could.
    “Max!” I breathed into his shirt. “I haven’t heard from you in days. Are you okay? How’s Clare?”
    His eyes were pained and bloodshot.
    He bit his lip and looked down at me.
    “That’s what I came here to talk to you about,” he said gravely, pointing to the sofa to my right. “Let’s sit. Did you get your coffee yet?”
    “Yeah,” I said, shaking my half-empty cup in his face.
    He didn’t laugh, just sat slumped down onto the cushioned sofa and looked over at me sadly.
    “We found out who the father of my sister’s baby was,” he said, swallowing nervously.
    “Who?” I pressed, putting my hand on his knee.
    He flinched and moved my hand off of his leg, making my brow crease in confusion.
    Why was he acting so strange around me all of a sudden?
    “It was your brother,” he choked. “And I think it would be best if we stopped hanging out. It’ll just make things more complicated than they already are.”
    ***
    “You stupid, stupid pig!” I cried, shoving my brother’s drunken body against the wall on Friday night.
    He pursed his swollen lips in pain and huffed a breath of air.
    His brown hair was messy, sticking up in all the wrong places.
    His shirt was unbuttoned at the top, revealing a least five bruises.
    I’d decided to stay home instead of going out with him to give myself time to contemplate everything that had happened within these past few weeks.
    “Cara,” he slurred, “Cara. Stop it.”
    “How could you get my best friend’s sister pregnant?” I yelled at him.
    “Cara, I had so much fun tonight,” he said, looking dreamily up at the ceiling. “I danced so much that my feet started to hurt.”
    My jaw clenched angrily as I pushed him against the living room wall again.
    “You stupid…you stupid idiot!” I screamed, tears miserably running down my face at three in the morning. “How could you be so careless?”
    “What is going on here?” I suddenly heard a raspy voice say from behind me.
    “Nothing,” I muttered, trying to walk by my mother and towards my room, but her hand stopped me.
    “What happened?” she demanded, searching my eyes. “Why are you crying?”
    “Ask Drake when he’s sober,” I sneered, pushing her away from me and running into my room.
    I locked my door and threw myself on my bed, crying into my arms to muffle the sound a little bit.
    My family couldn’t afford a baby.
    Drake didn’t even have a proper job!
    Sure, he graduated high school, but just barely.
    He didn’t even have an impressive resume or any real experience with work.
    How was he going to be able to raise a child?
    What if Max never spoke to me again?
    This was possibly the worst thing that had happened to my family in a very long time, and my family goes through a lot of bad stuff.
    My cries soon turned into gasps; I hadn’t realized how much I missed that feeling, of not being able to breathe after crying for so long.
    End it, a little voice whispered in my head. Break the skin.
    I flung myself to a sitting position and reached for the scissors in my nightstand drawer, opening them to an angle that would cut perfectly through my skin.
    I locked my door and got my “First Aid Kit” box out from underneath my bed in preparation; it was like a procedure, the whole thing.
    I pressed the sharp blade to my wrist and cut, deep enough that it hurt, but shallow enough that the bleeding would eventually stop if the wound was taken care of properly.
    My mouth opened slightly, gasping as blood trickled around my arm, running in circles across the circumference of my wrist.
    I tear dripped off my chin, even though I’d stopped crying at that point.
    I immediately reached for the gauze in the little white box below me and carefully wrapped it around my arm.
    After taking a few deep breaths, I was able to put the box back under my bed and clean off my scissors so I could use them next time I felt like cutting.
    I knew it was stupid.
    I knew cutting was a sign of weakness, but that’s why I kept it a secret.
    People needed to know I could take care of myself, and trust me, if they knew I cut my wrists, they would automatically assume I wasn’t stable enough to look out for myself or my family.
    I lay in bed, looking up at the electro band posters on my ceiling for what seemed like hours.
    I didn’t even recognize the names of some of the bands I had posted on the walls in my bedroom, so I stood up on my bed and started ripping them all off, crumpling them into little balls and attempting to throw them into the trashcan beside my desk.
    No more pretending to be someone I’m not.
    No more being anybody but myself.

  9. legendx3 legendx3
    posted a quote
    January 10, 2013 6:09pm UTC
    They're Just Words
    Seven
    The next time I saw Max was after my three-hour shift at Starbucks on Friday.
    He’d come at exactly five o’clock, and I knew why.
    He knew I’d be done with work, which meant he needed to tell me something important.
    I immediately threw off my apron and ran over to him, hugging him as tight as I could.
    “Max!” I breathed into his shirt. “I haven’t heard from you in days. Are you okay? How’s Clare?”
    His eyes were pained and bloodshot.
    He bit his lip and looked down at me.
    “That’s what I came here to talk to you about,” he said gravely, pointing to the sofa to my right. “Let’s sit. Did you get your coffee yet?”
    “Yeah,” I said, shaking my half-empty cup in his face.
    He didn’t laugh, just sat slumped down onto the cushioned sofa and looked over at me sadly.
    “We found out who the father of my sister’s baby was,” he said, swallowing nervously.
    “Who?” I pressed, putting my hand on his knee.
    He flinched and moved my hand off of his leg, making my brow crease in confusion.
    Why was he acting so strange around me all of a sudden?
    “It was your brother,” he choked. “And I think it would be best if we stopped hanging out. It’ll just make things more complicated than they already are.”
    ***
    “You stupid, stupid pig!” I cried, shoving my brother’s drunken body against the wall on Friday night.
    He pursed his swollen lips in pain and huffed a breath of air.
    His brown hair was messy, sticking up in all the wrong places.
    His shirt was unbuttoned at the top, revealing a least five bruises.
    I’d decided to stay home instead of going out with him to give myself time to contemplate everything that had happened within these past few weeks.
    “Cara,” he slurred, “Cara. Stop it.”
    “How could you get my best friend’s sister pregnant?” I yelled at him.
    “Cara, I had so much fun tonight,” he said, looking dreamily up at the ceiling. “I danced so much that my feet started to hurt.”
    My jaw clenched angrily as I pushed him against the living room wall again.
    “You stupid…you stupid idiot!” I screamed, tears miserably running down my face at three in the morning. “How could you be so careless?”
    “What is going on here?” I suddenly heard a raspy voice say from behind me.
    “Nothing,” I muttered, trying to walk by my mother and towards my room, but her hand stopped me.
    “What happened?” she demanded, searching my eyes. “Why are you crying?”
    “Ask Drake when he’s sober,” I sneered, pushing her away from me and running into my room.
    I locked my door and threw myself on my bed, crying into my arms to muffle the sound a little bit.
    My family couldn’t afford a baby.
    Drake didn’t even have a proper job!
    Sure, he graduated high school, but just barely.
    He didn’t even have an impressive resume or any real experience with work.
    How was he going to be able to raise a child?
    What if Max never spoke to me again?
    This was possibly the worst thing that had happened to my family in a very long time, and my family goes through a lot of bad stuff.
    My cries soon turned into gasps; I hadn’t realized how much I missed that feeling, of not being able to breathe after crying for so long.
    End it, a little voice whispered in my head. Break the skin.
    I flung myself to a sitting position and reached for the scissors in my nightstand drawer, opening them to an angle that would cut perfectly through my skin.
    I locked my door and got my “First Aid Kit” box out from underneath my bed in preparation; it was like a procedure, the whole thing.
    I pressed the sharp blade to my wrist and cut, deep enough that it hurt, but shallow enough that the bleeding would eventually stop if the wound was taken care of properly.
    My mouth opened slightly, gasping as blood trickled around my arm, running in circles across the circumference of my wrist.
    I tear dripped off my chin, even though I’d stopped crying at that point.
    I immediately reached for the gauze in the little white box below me and carefully wrapped it around my arm.
    After taking a few deep breaths, I was able to put the box back under my bed and clean off my scissors so I could use them next time I felt like cutting.
    I knew it was stupid.
    I knew cutting was a sign of weakness, but that’s why I kept it a secret.
    People needed to know I could take care of myself, and trust me, if they knew I cut my wrists, they would automatically assume I wasn’t stable enough to look out for myself or my family.
    I lay in bed, looking up at the electro band posters on my ceiling for what seemed like hours.
    I didn’t even recognize the names of some of the bands I had posted on the walls in my bedroom, so I stood up on my bed and started ripping them all off, crumpling them into little balls and attempting to throw them into the trashcan beside my desk.
    No more pretending to be someone I’m not.
    No more being anybody but myself.

  10. legendx3 legendx3
    posted a quote
    January 10, 2013 11:37am UTC
    They're Just Words
    Note to my readers
    Chapters 3 and 6 were blocker from Witty. So here's a summary of both incase you didn't get to them:
    Three
    Basically all that happened is this: Cara was working at Starbucks when Lucas bumped into her and asked her to meet up at their spot later that night. Then, she went to go help out her best friend Max at his dad's record shop and found out his sister got pregnant and nobody knows who the father is.
    Six
    Max won't answer any of Cara's phone calls throughout the day, which is very unusual. She goes to school, gets made fun of (nothing out of the ordinary), goes to work, eats dinner at home, and then finishes here homework. She has nothing else to do and nobody else to see except Lucas, so she heads down to the shore as early as nine o'clock and waits five hours until Lucas arrives. Lucas is shocked to see that Cara has been there for so long and asks her if she's okay; Cara says she has to be okay for the sake of her family and Max. Then, Lucas asks her if she's going to cry. Cara immediately says no, but when Lucas asks her if he can make her cry, Cara bursts into tears for the first time since she was fifteen and Lucas comforts her. She's drawn to Lucas for that exact reason.

  11. legendx3 legendx3
    posted a quote
    January 9, 2013 7:29pm UTC
    click to see this quote

  12. legendx3 legendx3
    posted a quote
    January 9, 2013 6:54pm UTC
    They're Just Words
    Five
    The only people still walking around at this time of night were my kind of people; the partiers, the druggies, the alcoholics.
    I even recognized some of them as we drove through a familiar neighborhood to wherever Lucas was taking me.
    The car radio was blasting One Republic, a band I used to like until I started listening to the electro music I heard at clubs.
    It brought back some strange memories of myself, trying to find my own identity; I’m seventeen now and still not sure if I’ve found it.
    Lucas parked his truck on the side of the street and got out quickly enough to hold my door open for me.
    I gave him a shy smile, blushing slightly.
    I usually never blushed in front of boys; and here I was, thinking I was so used to their immature behavior.
    I couldn’t have been more mistaken with Lucas.
    “Thank you,” I said softly, hopping out and onto the empty street.
    I looked at my surroundings and didn’t recognize a thing.
    There was not one car or building that seemed familiar to me, which threw me off guard.
    I thought I had every map memorized; I thought I knew about every place in Manhattan…
    “Where are we?” I asked, looking up at Lucas’s tall figure.
    He looked so handsome with the moonlight illuminating his pale skin, making his perfect bone structure stand out even more than usual.
    “You’ll see,” he said, taking my hand and leading me into a little room with an ATM machine.
    “Why are we at an ATM machine? Lucas. Tell me where we are.”
    “Cara, please. Just trust me, okay?”
    I rose and eyebrow and defensively crossed my arms over my chest, my hair still dripping wet from all the rain.
    “Okay,” I shrugged, like I didn’t actually care even though I was secretly scared out of my mind.
    There was a door near the ATM machine, but by the looks of it, it was locked.
    That is, until Lucas pulled a key out of his pocket and undid the lock, opening the door for me.
    I didn’t know why I trusted him so much.
    Maybe it was the fact that he was the first person who’d ever told me off when I said I didn’t like when people worried about me, as if that automatically made him somebody I could depend on.
    When I was with him, it was like I didn’t even know who I was anymore.
    He flipped on a light switch, illuminating the small room we were in, which was decorated with bright Christmas lights, lava lamps, and tapestries.
    There were words written all over the walls in all different colors, but I couldn’t quite figure out what they said.
    “They’re promises,” he said, noticing what I was looking at. “And apologies. People come here to write down things they promise to never do again and things they’re sorry for doing. Pretty cool, huh?”
    “Wow,” I said, my fingers tracing the words on the wall beside me.
    Lucas read a few out loud to me.
    “I promise to never cheat on anybody again. I promise to love you forever. I promise to never commit suicide again. I’m sorry for breaking your heart. I’m sorry for killing your goldfish,” he said, making me laugh. “I’m sorry for being a b*tch. I promise to protect you. I’m sorry for lying to my mom.”
    Then he stopped and looked at me so see my expression.
    “You can write one, if you want,” he told me, taking a sharpie out of a box on the small coffee table in the corner of the room.
    I looked skeptically at him, wondering why he wanted me to write down a promise or an apology in this strange room I had no idea existed.
    Why did he even bring me here in the first place?
    “Maybe later,” I told him.
    “I’ll make you a copy,” he replied, confusing me to no end.
    “A copy of what?”
    “The key.”
    Hope everybody's week is going well(:

  13. legendx3 legendx3
    posted a quote
    January 8, 2013 7:09pm UTC
    They're Just Words
    Four
    That was the first night I noticed it was going to be a very cold winter.
    It started raining halfway through my bike ride to the West 79th Street Boat Basin Café.
    My hair and clothes were drenched by the time I got there, but luckily I’d changed into a t-shirt before going so my clothes didn’t feel too heavy.
    I was still shivering uncontrollably, though.
    But, I promised Lucas I’d be there tonight so I knew I’d have to suck it up and go.
    After locking up my bike, I walked towards the fence and hopped over it, careful not to slip on the wet rocks, which were twice as slippery as normal today because of the rain.
    “You’re going to catch a cold,” I heard a voice say from behind me, making me gasp.
    “I’ll deal,” I shrugged, offering Lucas a small smile.
    “Here,” he said, taking off his semi-dry leather jacket and handing it to me. “Take my jacket.”
    “No, no,” I said, raising my hand in protest. “It’s fine. Really.”
    “Take it,” he demanded, handing it too me.
    I gulped and took it, putting it on even though it was about four sizes too big for me.
    “I don’t like when people worry about me,” I suddenly admitted, looking up into his soft, brown eyes.
    “And why is that?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.
    “Because I know I can take care of myself,” I said honestly.
    He looked at me and then shook his head in disbelief.
    “How old are you?” he asked.
    “Seventeen.”
    “A seventeen-year-old girl living in New York City thinks she can take care of herself? Humor me.”
    “Knows she can take care of herself,” I corrected, glaring at him.
    “Right,” he laughed. “So tell me…what if I tried to kidnap you right now? Then could you take care of yourself?”
    “What?” I breathed, backing away from him and swallowing nervously.
    His hand flew up to the collar of the jacket he let me barrow and he grasped it, pulling me closer to him.
    “That’s right. What if I just took you away right now and you never got to see home again?”
    “You wouldn’t,” I said, taking in sharp, anxious breaths.
    “You’re right,” he said, letting me go so I slipped on the rocks.
    He caught me, for the second time since we first met, and sighed.
    “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he hissed.
    “Why do you care?” I exclaimed. “You don’t even know me!”
    “No,” he said, “You’re right. But, you shouldn’t get angry with the people who worry about you. They’re the ones who care.”
    I huffed a breath of air in disbelief.
    “How old are you?” I asked, wondering where his confidence came from.
    “Twenty,” he said. “I’m at Columbia University, but I’m originally from Queens.”
    “Oh,” I said, biting my lip. “You’re my brother’s age.”
    “Who’s your brother?” he asked, tilting his head to the side.
    “Drake Montgomery.”
    “Oh,” Lucas laughed. “I’ve heard a lot about him.”
    “Like what?” I snapped. “Don’t you dare say anything bad about my brother.”
    “I won’t, I won’t. In fact, he’s close with some of my own friends. I don’t know him personally, though.”
    “Oh,” I said, looking down uncomfortably after I’d just lashed out on him.
    He was really smart; I should watch what I say around him so I don’t get humiliated when he proves me wrong.
    “I suspect you don’t sleep either, then?” he asked, crossing his arms over his chest and raising an eyebrow at me.
    We were both drenched in rain now, shivering from the cold, November breeze and freezing raindrops.
    “No,” I said, looking at the distant Newark lights across the river.
    “Is that a hickey on your neck?” he suddenly asked, making my eyes widen.
    I looked down in shame and nodded my head.
    “Can I take you somewhere?” he asked, as if he’d completely forgot about my inappropriate bruise.
    “At two in the morning?”
    “This place is always open. Come on. You’ll love it.”
    “But my bike-”
    “I’ll put it in the back of my truck…if that’s okay with you.”
    I nodded hesitantly and climbed up the rocks with him, back up to the fence.
    Most people didn’t own trucks (or cars period) in the city, especially college kids.
    Most universities didn’t allow their students to have cars on campus.
    “That’s fine.”

  14. legendx3 legendx3
    posted a quote
    January 7, 2013 4:10pm UTC
    click to see this quote

  15. legendx3 legendx3
    posted a quote
    January 6, 2013 8:21pm UTC
    They're Just Words
    Two
    It was the same routine every Friday.
    I’d run home and do my homework that was due on Monday as early as possible because I knew I’d have a hangover all day Saturday and then I’d relax on Sunday.
    After my homework was finished and all my studying was done, I’d make dinner for my brother and my mom.
    Then, my mom would usually be too tired to do anything else after a long day at work, so she’d shower and kiss my brother and I on the head before she fell asleep.
    Then I’d run to my room and try to get ready faster than my brother, but that never happened since girls always take longer.
    Just like any other Friday, that’s what I did.
    I applied a massive amount of eyeliner, mascara, and eye shadow to make my eyes pop, covered up any marks on my skin, and put on some chapstick.
    My life depended on chapstick.
    When I was finished with my makeup, I teased my hair a little, put it in a half-ponytail, and threw on a little black dress, tights, and short, leather boots.
    I always wore boots when I went out because I needed a place to keep my chapstick and keys to the house.
    My brother never brought keys with him because he was too afraid they’d fall out of his pockets and it “hurt” too much to keep them in his own shoes.
    Neither of us brought our cell phones; I know, stupid, but we didn’t realize how dangerous that was at the time.
    My brother knocked on my door just as I was putting on my earrings and said, “Let’s go. We’re late.”
    He wore the usual: tattered jeans, a t-shirt, a sh*t load of cologne, and sneakers that seemed too big for anybody.
    We quietly walked down the hallway in our tiny apartment and successfully snuck out without a sound.
    Once on the streets, we walked about twelve blocks away from home to the back entrance of a club.
    The line stretched all the way out into the middle of an abandoned alley, but my brother assured me we didn’t have to worry about anything.
    He walked right up to the big, intimidating bodyguard, ignoring the frustrated groans from other people, and whispered something in his ear.
    “Give it,” he demanded, holding out his hand.
    My brother smirked and pulled a small, plastic bag full of white powder out of his pocket and handed it to the bodyguard.
    He wacked my brother on the back and unlocked the red, velvet rope that led inside the dark building booming with weird, electro music.
    “You’re all set, Montgomery.”
    My brother smiled appreciatively and took my hand, leading me inside the club despite the fact that I was underage.
    “You know the plan!” my brother yelled into my ear once we were inside.
    “Meet here at one and if you’re not here yet go home and let you inside when I hear you knock!” I responded over the loud music.
    He made me repeat the routine to him every single time even though I knew it by heart.
    “Good girl,” he praised before walking off to the bar.
    I smiled deviously to myself and walked out onto the dance floor.
    ‘Good girl’ my a*s.
    I grabbed the first boy I saw by his collar and started making out with him.
    Just like any other Friday.
    What do you guys thinking of Cara? Keep in mind the last story's moral: first impressions DO NOT last a lifetime(;

  16. legendx3 legendx3
    posted a quote
    January 6, 2013 5:53pm UTC
    They're Just Words
    One
    I usually never block out the city noises when I’m riding my bike.
    First of all, it’s dangerous.
    If I blocked the noises out, I might not be able to hear a car speeding at me without its headlights on.
    Second of all, I liked the noises because they helped me think.
    It wasn’t like music, with a tune or lyrics to memorize, just sounds that helped keep your mind focused and on track.
    My favorite route was about three miles to the shore of the Hudson River, where I’d park my bike and sit on a wet rock and watch the quiet waves lap onto the sand.
    Boats came in and out nonstop during the daytime, and although the river wasn’t necessarily deserted at nighttime, it was quieter.
    The only sounds you could hear came from either the streets or the water, and I liked that when I was by myself.
    It’s hard to think to yourself in the city when other people are constantly trying to influence you with their own opinionated thoughts.
    The wind blew through my hair as I neared the edge of Manhattan.
    Like always, I locked my bike on the bike rack outside of the West 79th Street Boat Basin Café.
    I walked to the back of the empty restaurant and jumped over the gate that separated the water from the sidewalk, careful not to slip on the wet rocks as I sat down and watched the waves come and go.
    I stayed like that for a few minutes until I heard a rattling noise behind me.
    I turned around to see a boy, my age or maybe even a little older, trying to hop the same fence I’d jumped to get to the water.
    I jumped to my feet in shock, only to loose my balance on the rock’s slippery edge.
    My legs gave out from underneath my and I was suddenly falling face-first into the edge of a sharp rock until the boy’s hand caught my upper arm.
    Still not sure as to whether I should trust him or not, I quickly regained my balance and tried breaking free of his steady grip.
    My heart was hammering nervously against my chest.
    “Let go!” I nearly screamed, my voice shaking.
    “Calm down!” he yelled back. “I’m not going to hurt you, but if I let go you’re going to slip and crack your head open.”
    I slowly stopped wriggling around and looked up at the strange boy.
    It was dark besides the street light a few feet away from where we were standing. He had a perfect face with pale, smooth skin and full, rosy red lips.
    He had curly, dirty blonde hair with one, smooth ringlet that fell down the center of his forehead.
    My eyes swept over his outfit: loose fitting, old jeans, brown boots, a white t-shirt, and a black, leather jacket.
    I’m not going to deny it; he was hot.
    My breath got caught in my throat as I dragged my blue eyes back to his soft, brown ones.
    He was smirking at me now.
    Great, he totally just noticed me checking him out.
    “I’m Lucas,” he greeted.
    “Cara,” I said hesitantly. “What are you doing here? I thought I was the only one who knew about this place at nighttime.”
    “I know,” he shrugged. “I’ve seen you here before.”
    My brow furrowed in confusion.
    How did he know I came here often?
    Was he some kind of stalker or something?
    “Of all the places in New York...” I started.
    My eyes suddenly widened, but he hushed me before I could lash out on him.
    “It’s okay,” he said softly, nodding towards the restaurant. “I work at the café. I’ve known about this place for as long as I can remember.”
    “So, you’ve seen me here before but you never had the decency to come out from wherever you’ve been hiding this whole time to introduce yourself?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.
    “Harsh,” he said. “Believe it or not, I’m kind of a shy kid…or at least I used to be. The only reason I introduced myself today is because it looked like you were going to slip into the water.”
    “And I almost did, thanks to you.”
    “But the important thing is that you didn’t.”
    “You don’t have to worry about me. I’m fine. You can go back to your original spot.”
    He looked hurt for a moment, but quickly regained his composure and walked towards the dock a few feet away from me, crouching underneath it on a few sturdy rocks.
    “Well that’s just creepy,” I said. “I can’t believe you’ve been there this whole time.”
    “You know what’s creepier? When you discover a peaceful place to come to at two in the morning and a few days later a girl starts showing up almost every night at the same time and never notices you’re there, too.”
    I shot him a glare and sighed, “I guess you’re right.”
    He smirked.
    “I guess I am. Why do you come here anyway?”
    “I ride my bike here,” I shrugged. “It’s quiet. I like some time by myself.”
    “Well, you’re going to have to find a new place to have some time for yourself because I’m not giving it up for some girl I don’t even know.”
    “Well, I’m not moving,” I said stubbornly, crossing my arms over my chest.
    “Didn’t say you had to. You just won’t be alone anymore.”
    “Maybe I want company,” I challenged.
    “Maybe I do, too,” he said, grinning at me.
    I couldn’t help but smile back.
    Thoughts so far? Pretty please?

  17. legendx3 legendx3
    posted a quote
    January 6, 2013 11:50am UTC
    They're Just Words
    Prologue
    When I was fifteen, I discovered I had insomnia.
    I didn’t find out from my doctors or my mom; I discovered it by myself.
    If I told my mom, I knew she’d worry about me.
    I hate when people worry about me because I know I can take care of myself.
    It started when my brother started coming home at three and four in the morning.
    I’d have to stay up so I knew when he was home to unlock the door for him.
    I’m seventeen now; almost eighteen.
    I’ve lived in New York City for as long as I can remember.
    I know there are lots of stereotypes for city girls, but I can honestly say my friends and I are all very different from each other, with different families, backgrounds, home life, school life, etc.
    My grandparents moved from England to America when my mom was only sixteen.
    When she was nineteen, she got married to my dad, and my brother was born nine months later.
    They moved to the city so my dad could work at a publishing company, which helped my mom out a lot until he left us when my brother was only three.
    I was born seven months after he left.
    My mom had never worked up the nerve to tell him she was having another child since they were having problems around that time.
    So, basically, my dad has no idea I exist.
    My brother Drake is twenty years old and has a mild form of depression and gets himself involved in all the wrong things, but he has an awesome group of friends who are always looking out for us.
    My mom, on the other hand, is the strongest person I’ve ever met.
    She works so hard to provide for my brother and I.
    She got child support money from my dad until he turned eighteen, but since he doesn’t know who I am, my mom has to work twice as hard to keep my stomach full and make sure I have a roof over my head.
    The only thing is, she’s constantly worrying about me; she worries about what I do at school, outside of school, who I hang out with, what I eat, and everything else.
    She doesn’t realize I’ve basically raised myself my entire life, since she’s always working and my brother is always out doing something stupid.
    That’s why I liked the nighttime.
    When my mom comes home, feeds me dinner, and falls asleep, I’m usually able to sneak out of the house and ride my bike around the city for a while.
    When I’m not riding my bike at night I’m usually with one of my friends or one of my Drake’s friends at a concert or a party.
    Drake won’t let me date anybody because he says boys will screw up my life like dad did to mom, yet he allows me to hook up with random guys at concerts and parties.
    It doesn’t make any sense to me, but I don’t disobey him because I don’t want to make his depression worse.
    I thought I had the city all figured out; I thought I had every street and map memorized.
    Well, that is, until I met Lucas.
    I know you guys wanted a sequel to the last story, but we all have to move on at some point, right? Wow. Deep. Anyway, I promise to put as much heart and soul into this new story as I did in my last one. Please don't give up on me. I love you guys! XO

  18. legendx3 legendx3
    posted a quote
    January 5, 2013 8:11pm UTC
    Lend Me Your Heart
    Seventy
    He stood there with his mouth open in shock, his expression unreadable with his mask covering his eyes.
    He slowly shook his head, not saying a word for what seemed like forever.
    “What?” I asked softly, wondering why he was suddenly acting so strange.
    I swallowed nervously after another long pause of silence.
    “Who are you?” I demanded.
    “Cat got your tongue, mystery man?” JJ said from behind me, ripping of the man’s mask.
    I gasped in surprise, my brow furrowing in confusion.
    In front of me stood the most beautiful boy I’d ever seen in my life; he was so familiar with his bright, blue eyes and soft, black hair.
    My breathing picked up significantly just looking at him.
    It couldn’t be him.
    It was impossible.
    He was taller, his bone structure was more defined, and his muscles were bigger than they’d ever been.
    My lips moved to say something, anything, but nothing came out.
    “What the hell is going on?” JJ asked.
    He said something else, but I didn’t catch it because the man engulfed me in a huge hug, kissing me on the top of my head over and over again.
    “I never thought I’d see you again,” he said in a voice much deeper than I remember.
    “Zach?” I squeaked into his chest, still not believing my eyes.
    What if I was going into shock?
    What if this was a side effect of depression?
    What if I was being delusional?
    Nothing seemed real at all.
    “Yeah,” he said simply, kissing my head again, breathing in the scent of my hair.
    “Oh my god,” I choked, my voice unsteady.
    “Come on,” he said, smiling hugely, taking my hand and pulling me out of the party.
    “H-Hey!” I heard JJ call. “Where is he taking you, Layne?”
    I turned back to my best friend, shooting him a big, genuine smile and mouthed, “It’s him.”
    JJ stopped dead in his tracks and smiled back at me, laughing in amazement.
    I started laughing, too.
    He started chuckling along with me.
    We laughed in disbelief, together, down one four flights of stairs, towards the bottom of the apartment building.
    When we reached the lobby, he pulled me to the side of the staircase and shoved me up against the wall, looking into my green eyes with his shiny, blue ones, still laughing hysterically.
    He put his head close to mine so our foreheads were touching.
    I could smell his sweet breath through his smile and just inhaled his scent, wrapping my arms around his neck.
    I laughed some more until his lips crashed against mine, causing my heart to stop dead in my chest.
    My stomach was tight with feelings I can’t even start to explain; feelings of happiness, pain, longing, and especially love.
    We were eager and passionate against each other, but when we started getting looks from the other people in the lobby, we pulled apart, smiling wildly.
    He took my hand again as we started towards the streets of Boston.
    “Harvard?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.
    “You guessed it,” I shrugged, wrapping my hands around his upper arm. “You got a lot bigger.”
    He was a very, very attractive man now (emphasis on the man).
    “Football,” he laughed in his new, deep voice that I still wasn’t used to yet.
    I tugged on his arm in the middle of the sidewalk, stopping him in his tracks just so I could kiss him again.
    “You were right,” I whispered, looking up into his eyes. “About being meant for each other.”
    He didn’t say anything for a few seconds, looking up at the starry night sky.
    Then, he looked back down at me and licked his lips.
    “Forever?” he asked.
    “Forever,” I nodded.
    I clutched the necklace that had been locked around me for the past year and a half and smiled at him again.
    This was our forever, and not anything or anyone was going to get in our way.
    The End.
    So, yeah. That's the end and I hoped you loved it <3 Also, LOL. LOVED THE COMMENTS ON THE LAST ONE, GUYS.

  19. legendx3 legendx3
    posted a quote
    January 5, 2013 2:51pm UTC
    Lend Me Your Heart
    Sixty-Nine
    http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=46byB2YGePA
    “I forgot to tell you,” JJ said later that day, handing me a sparkly black and gold mask. “It’s a ‘Roaring Twenties Masquerade’.”
    “JJ!” I practically screamed, my eyes widening. “What the hell? Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”
    “You look fine.”
    “Fine isn’t good enough,” I muttered, looking through my closet for something better to wear than the sparkly, gold dress I had on, “I don’t even look like I’m from the twenties.”
    “Why the hell are you so insecure?” he asked, grasping my shoulders and forcing me to look into the mirror on my wall. “Look at yourself. You’re beautiful.”
    “You have to say that because you’re my best friend.”
    “True,” he said, pursing his lips and making me laugh. “But I also wouldn’t lie to you. After all, I am your best friend.”
    I smiled up at him and took my mask out of his hands.
    “Thanks, JJ.”
    “Anytime, Layne. Thanks for coming with me.”
    I rolled my eyes.
    “Whatever. Anything to get you laid.”
    “You love me,” he said with a grin.
    I smirked and glared at him, trying my best not to laugh.
    “You wish, lover boy.”
    ***
    When we walked into the huge apartment, the first thing I noticed was the music.
    It was a song called “Sing Sing Sing” by Benny Goodman and Louis Prima; a seven-minute song I danced to during a recital a few years back.
    It was dark inside besides some colorful strobe lights and glowing cell phones.
    It basically looked like a club playing old-fashioned music.
    It was weird.
    Everything felt weird and mysterious, but I was extremely excited to dance.
    It’s not everyday that you go to a party and get to experience this type of thing.
    There were some people that went all out with their twenties masquerade outfits; some girls were wearing feather boas and sparkly headbands and fringe dresses.
    Some boys wore old tuxedos and hats, making me wonder how they weren’t dying of heat in this place.
    “Layne!” I heard JJ call from behind me over the loud music. “That girl over there is checking me out. I’ll catch up with you later, alright?”
    I rolled my eyes, putting my mask over my eyes.
    Typical JJ.
    Why did he even invite me if he was just going to keep ditching me?
    “Yeah,” I said, quiet enough that only I could hear myself over the music, waving him off with my hand. “Just leave me here alone to suffer in misery.”
    The music had started to pick up a little; the drumming got louder to the point where I could practically feel the vibrations within my chest, meaning my favorite part of the song was coming up.
    That’s when I suddenly felt a hand on my shoulder.
    I turned around to see a tall, dark figure standing behind me.
    He worse black dress pants, a black dress shirt, a white tie, a white mask, and a black hat; the kind men used to wear back in the twenties.
    I couldn’t make out the color of his hair or eyes, but he was very tall and fit.
    He suddenly leaned in towards my ear.
    “Want to dance?” he asked in a low voice, sending chills down my spine.
    I guess he could tell what my reaction was by my lips formed into a faint smile, because he smirked and led me towards the group of dancing people in the middle of whoever’s apartment this was.
    He locked one of his hands with mine and put his other on my hip.
    I was surprised he didn’t just immediately start grinding with me, like most of the people here were doing; I liked it.
    I’d be lying if I said he didn’t make me nervous, because he did.
    He was mysterious.
    I got a strange feeling when I danced with him, but I couldn’t quite place what that feeling was.
    Suddenly, the song immediately started to pick up after a drum solo.
    The man moved his feet quicker, matching my steps.
    I laughed incredulously; I’d never danced with someone as good as him.
    His grip tightened on my hip as we started to sway further.
    I felt like I was being carried away by the music, so I closed my eyes and titled my head back slightly, until the man raised my arm so he could spin me.
    A few of my curls fell loose, but I didn’t care.
    I was too busy enjoying myself with this stranger.
    At this point in the song, I couldn’t even feel the people who kept bumping into me or how fast my heart was beating our how my heels kept painfully squeezing the skin on my ankles.
    Suddenly, though, the song came to an abrupt end, causing the stranger and I to clash chests.
    I would’ve fallen backwards if he hadn’t caught me in his arms and dipped me, like it was all a part of our act.
    Our faces were so close to each other and his arms were wrapped around me in the most perfect way that all I wanted to do was kiss him.
    Luckily, though, he kissed me first; it was so perfect.
    I’d never kissed a stranger before, but this stranger seemed oddly familiar to me, like I’d known him my whole life.
    His lips were so warm and gentle, and then everybody started clapping and cheering for the little show we put on.
    I hadn’t even realized they were watching us.
    When we pulled apart, he lifted me back up so we were standing again.
    People started to disperse, going back to their original dancing positions and places, but he and I just stayed put in the middle of everybody.
    Pulling me closer to him by my hips, he started to say something, but a voice interrupted him.
    “Wow!” I heard JJ voice say from behind me. “It’s like you two were made for each other, Layne. I mean, did you see the way-”
    “Layne?” the man breathed, stopping JJ in the middle of whatever he was about to say.
    “Yeah, that’s my-” I started, but suddenly lost my train of thought when his hands flew up to my mask, slowly moving it down my face.

  20. legendx3 legendx3
    posted a quote
    January 5, 2013 11:05am UTC
    Lend Me Your Heart
    Sixty-Eight
    I decided to skip graduation to save you guys the heartbreak, so sorry if this chapter catches you off guard. I just wanted to let you know what was going through my head. (:
    One and a half years later
    “But Layne,” my best friend JJ whined, “You promised me you’d hook me up with some of you lady friends if I hooked you up with some of my guy friends.”
    He was standing in my doorframe wearing nothing but a towel and a frown, water dripping off his big, curly head of hair.
    “I know,” I sighed while folding clothes and putting them back in my drawers. “But I’m just not sure if I want to go to a party tonight or not.”
    “Why not? You’ve never even been to a college party and we’re halfway through the first semester. How do you even know you don’t like them?”
    “You sound like my mother when she’s trying to convince me to eat something I’ve never tried before.”
    “Layne. Stay on topic.”
    “Right. Sorry.”
    “The party? Lady friends? Please, Layne. All of my guy friends want to get with you. You’re just oblivious.”
    “I’m not oblivious,” I shrugged. “Just not interested.”
    “Because you’re still waiting for Prince Charming to come and love you again? Well, guess what? That’s not going to happen, Layne. Let’s be real here,” he said.
    Don’t get me wrong, JJ was my best friend, but could be really hurtful at times because he was always brutally honest.
    “S-Sorry,” he stuttered, his eyes widening after he realized what he just said.
    I bit my lip and sat on the edge of my bed, facing my window instead of him so he wouldn’t see my eyes water.
    I could always cry in front of Joey, but JJ was different.
    I’d only known him for a few months and he always made fun of me.
    I know, he probably sounds like a really terrible best friend, but he’s not.
    We kind of revolve around each other.
    We help each other out…sort of like siblings.
    He’s there for me and I’m there for him; we’ve been like that since the beginning of the year.
    When we both moved onto campus and didn’t know anyone, we met because we were in the same dorm, and ever since then we’ve been inseparable.
    Unlike Clearwater Creak, the boys’ dorms were on the complete opposite side of the building at Harvard.
    “Layne,” he said, sitting on the edge of my bed and slinging his wet arm around my shoulders. “Please, please, please, please, please, please come tonight.”
    “I’ll think about it.”
    “Well, that’s better than a no!” he said, jumping up from my bed and walking towards the door.
    “Still not a yes,” I muttered, getting up with him.
    “I can feel it, Layne,” he said. “If you come tonight, great things are going to happen. We’re going to make history. I can feel it in my bones.”
    “Okay, JJ. I said I’d think about it.”
    “Yeah, yeah. I’ll see you later, Layne.”
    “James Joseph!” I yelled, using his full name to embarrass him.
    “I won’t take no for an answer,” he sang, glaring at me before slamming my door shut.
    Great, now I had to go through a miserable night of sitting around a bunch of jerky college boys who thought I wanted to hook up with them.
    The only problem was, none of them compared to him, so I’d never be able to move on.
    I was an absolute train wreck.
    I was too hopeful, and you know what they say about getting your hopes up.
    A year and seven months had passed since we went our separate ways, but I still thought about him all the time, especially now, considering we were both in the same city.
    He went to Boston University on a football scholarship.
    Sarah and Matt were both at Columbia.
    Joey was at Providence University on a football scholarship.
    Casey was still in Vermont all by herself, poor thing.
    I mean, anything could happen!
    See what I mean?
    I am way too hopeful.
    I felt like everybody had moved on except for myself.
    What was I going to do?

:)

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