Well, as it seems, I guess I'm posting the rest of it. In pieces ^_^ (makes
it a bit more interesting) My other story is being put on hold right now, a
bit due to lack of interest...but it'll be up and running soon enough.
Enjoy!
Dear Vegeta no Ouji,
Sometimes, I wonder if being alone makes the feeling better or worse. When I'm alone, my heart reaches for the something I'm missing. And I'm never sure what it is. I hope I find it soon, if at all, to ease this pain of searching.
Why do I put up a front around people? At school and home, it's a mean badass attitude. Very, very rarely, I can't help it, and explode like a volcano, and destroy anything in my path. And very, very, very rarely, I can't handle it any more and break down. I guess it's worse for you, everybody across the world watching you not cope. I never want my life on television.
What I do want someday to do is fly. Not on an airplane kind of fly. I love to swing; it's the closest I can get to flying. And sometimes, when the wind is just right, I can run, and almost fly. I imagine these are all mere substitutes for the real thing, wind against your face, escaping the pull of gravity. Thank you for listening like always.
Me
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
(3rd person P.O.V. from now on)
"Yes!" he yelled excitedly, when he looked in the mailbox.
Then quickly swiveling around, he checked to see if anyone had heard him. Whether he liked it or not, Vegeta was starting to look forward to the letters from Me. Although they relieved painful memories, it was nice to know someone shared the same pain as him.
I wish I could I could write back to her, to express my tha- I mean tell her to stop, he forced himself to think.
Then he glanced at a part of the letter.
"Television?" he said aloud, "That thing humans watch? Why would I be on there?"
Vegeta shook his head, finished reading the letter, and sealed it with the rest of them.
********************************************************
Dear Vegeta no Ouji,
Sometimes, I wonder if being alone makes the feeling better or worse. When I'm alone, my heart reaches for the something I'm missing. And I'm never sure what it is. I hope I find it soon, if at all, to ease this pain of searching.
Why do I put up a front around people? At school and home, it's a mean badass attitude. Very, very rarely, I can't help it, and explode like a volcano, and destroy anything in my path. And very, very, very rarely, I can't handle it any more and break down. I guess it's worse for you, everybody across the world watching you not cope. I never want my life on television.
What I do want someday to do is fly. Not on an airplane kind of fly. I love to swing; it's the closest I can get to flying. And sometimes, when the wind is just right, I can run, and almost fly. I imagine these are all mere substitutes for the real thing, wind against your face, escaping the pull of gravity. Thank you for listening like always.
Me
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
(3rd person P.O.V. from now on)
"Yes!" he yelled excitedly, when he looked in the mailbox.
Then quickly swiveling around, he checked to see if anyone had heard him. Whether he liked it or not, Vegeta was starting to look forward to the letters from Me. Although they relieved painful memories, it was nice to know someone shared the same pain as him.
I wish I could I could write back to her, to express my tha- I mean tell her to stop, he forced himself to think.
Then he glanced at a part of the letter.
"Television?" he said aloud, "That thing humans watch? Why would I be on there?"
Vegeta shook his head, finished reading the letter, and sealed it with the rest of them.
********************************************************