'' And if you're still breathing, you're the lucky ones.
'Cause most of us are heaving through corrupted lungs.
Setting fire to our insides for fun…
…
We are the reckless;
we are the wild youth
Chasing visions of our futures
One day we'll reveal the truth
that one will die before he gets there.
…
And if you're still bleeding, you're the lucky ones.
'Cause most of our feelings, they are dead and they are gone.
We're setting fire to our insides for fun.
Collecting pictures from the flood that wrecked our home,
It was a flood that wrecked this...
…
... and you caused it...
…
Well I've lost it all, I'm just a silhouette,
A lifeless face that you'll soon forget,
My eyes are damp from the words you left,
Ringing in my head, when you broke my chest
…
And if you're in love, then you are the lucky one,
'Cause most of us are bitter over someone.
Setting fire to our insides for fun,
to distract our hearts from ever missing them.
But I'm forever missing him.
And you caused it…''
No copyright infringement intended.
Prologue.
I knew from the moment I saw him that he was trouble.
He was the typical 'oh-so cliché' bad boy type. I'd been lost, vulnerable with no money, no friends and nowhere to go. Then there was him. A saviour of sorts, maybe it was his 'dangerous' persona, maybe it was the fact that he'd taken me off the streets and helped with my new life, or maybe it was just him. Either way, I fell for him, hard. I'd thought I'd known him, thought I understood. I didn't, at all. I was under the illusion that I meant as much to him as he meant to me. I didn't, at all. The drink, the drugs, the shady guys, the sex, it was all he was. The love, that was me, all me. The hardest part of everything is that I knew. I knew he'd break my heart yet I'd believed everything. Even so, I could never had guessed or believed what was to happen to our relationship, to him. Maybe I still don't believe it.
The only way out now is to run. Use the connections I'd gained through him and run as far away as I can, from him. But he did love me; maybe that was the biggest problem. That one drug messed up every other drug he was messed up in. I didn't mix with the vodka, cocaine, whores. I was the piece that messed it all up and that scared him, so in return he scared me. So much so, that I'm in his black Porsche, doing 100 m/ph heading anywhere but here. My clothes, my money, my love, It had all been left behind. But that's how it had to be, or I'd never get out of this alive. I'd never thought I'd say something like that in relation to my relationship with him. I hated him because even after last night, I still love him. But he needs help and I'm the last person who can give it to him.
Part of me is hoping that when he wakes up and finds me gone that he'll sober up and realize how badly he's fucked up, but another part of me knows that's just wishful thinking. Some part of me is scared he'll wake up and not remember at all. They say you never truly realize how much you love something until you lose it. I've lost him and I can't begin to describe the pain, heartbreak, despair that I'm feeling. It's worse than anything I've ever felt in my life. I look back over the last few years, the things that lead up my meeting him. But I can't regret it; I can't regret loving him, because he thought me how to love myself. He thought me how to live, which is why I have to leave.
My name is Isabella Swan and this is my story.
This is a new story I'm thinking of pursuing, if there's good interest in it, I'll most likely continue it. I'm still writing Drift even though I know I've been terrible at updating regularly, forgive me.
Review and follow and the like. (: - Burning Liberty.
Lyrics at the top are taken from Daughter – Youth.