Random verses of inspiration:
We are the reckless,
We are the wild youth
Chasing visions of our futures
One day we'll reveal the truth...
If everyone was gettin' young
There'd be a smile on your face
If all the friends that passed away
Came back to this place
We'd be puttin' down the daisies
Drinkin' milk and feelin' lazy
There's no sense in any senses
What's the use in independence?
I remember, back when I was young. When we were all young; messy-haired, scabby-kneed tweens. It wasn't partying or sex or alcohol that mattered most: it was simply the fantasies we made up and acted out in the woods. Our woods. Times like that were perfect, and I wish they could last forever.
But, like most good things, they couldn't. Things such as aging and angst got in the way. Friends became enemies. When I was thirteen, I was devastated that nobody wanted to play our games anymore. Nobody except him.
That's just one of the wide array of reasons I love him. His sweet smile, his little girly giggle. He is the opposite of me, stoic and reserved; if I say so myself. They tell me it's wrong for me to love him. 'Them' usually being people like Eduard. I don't listen. I don't see how it's wrong.
All I see is him.