What Love Really Means
Hi this is my new story I know I have a lot of stories it's just that I found this song and immediately got inspired for a fic! I hope you enjoy and I think this is a really great message for everybody to accept the fact that love is not just about couples it is about family and friends and those who care for you. I really stress that message and I want 5 reviews till next chapter.
Cece's POV
Love. Ugh.
Love is disgusting. It just levels off people. Gushy-mushy love. That's the difference between me and my best friend, Rocky Blue. She is all obsessed with love. Probably since she grew up with it and found it with somebody else.
I never found love. I never felt what it feels to be loved. I don't have any boyfriend or anything. My dad left me unexpectedly because he didn't love me. Probably because of my stupid dyslexia. This made my mom hate me too. I ruined her love, why should I be loved in return? And my brother thinks I'm just stuck up. No, in a way I don't even deserve love.
I'm hopeless. I'm a trainwreck. I never experienced what it was like to be loved. But I know how it feels to want love more than you ever have wanted anything in your entire life! Sorry for getting a little too excited there, but I experienced this when I was 10 years old. Yes, I was madly in love with Rocky's brother, Ty. The one time I mustered up all of my bravery to tell him was the time when he laughed in my face, and even pretended to throw up.
When I was also ten, I was fat. Not just slightly on the chubby side, but fat. I was bullied. When I walked through the halls, people would grab onto something and pretend to shake because I was causing an earthquake. Ha-ha, very funny.
That was when I discovered dance. I danced so much so often that I had lost weight. I was one of the skinniest girls in my grade. I was so proud of myself when I saw that at 13 I weighed 62.4 pounds. When I walked into school the next day, however, as I was expecting boys falling head over heels for me, nothing happened.
So then, I tied chains to my shorts that I hand-ripped, I added vests upon vests, and glittered all of my nerdy shirts. They were baggy, so I tied them with a ponytail holder in the back. I had to admit- I looked good.
The next day was the same, no love. Just me, myself, and Rocky, who was slowly drifting away from me. I was alone, and unloved.
And I hated myself for that.