Disclaimer: I do not own Hannah Montana.
I suppose, since I already started, I will finish. Miley knows I love her, she knows she is my world, my center, she knows I couldn't possibly live without her, and that's fine. It's just sometimes… sometimes I wish I knew what I am to her. But even more than that I wish I knew what she is.
She feels human. Soft, warm, but her heart what is it? Where is it? She's like some sort of robot or alien, but not the ugly green kind with antennas. But she's also the light, the moon, the stars, and I love her, every bit of her. The way she uses me, the way she laughs at me, and, on occasion, the way she loves me. Whatever she is, she's mine.
So maybe now you understand why loving Miley Stewart is more dangerous than jumping into a cage with ravenous lions; I could probably survive the lions and if not, I would be dead soon, probably not too much pain for very long. But Miley. She will be the death of me, I know, and she kills, she tortures me slowly. But all the while I feel the excitement, my pounding heart, complete freedom, and Miley and I are one.
I will not repeat myself, you already know the message. And I'm sorry this story doesn't have a real ending. I can make one up for you though, if you want? A happy ending? Sure.
Miley and I grow old together and live a long, fulfilling life, we get married, cuz it's legal now, and we have children, and grandchildren. And a dog.
I'm just shitting you. Miley and I will stay together for as long as she'll have me, or as long as I stay alive, or until she returns to her home planet. We will never get married, because you can't change people that much, and kids? Maybe, if I grow a penis.
And one last thing: Love is a disease you shouldn't try to find a cure for.
"Are you serious?! That was lame! That wasn't even a real story!"
"Seriously, I thought you said you were gunna tell us about the greatest adventure of your life! What the fuck was that?"
"That is the greatest adventure of my life, and it is totally real!" I exclaimed with my hands in the air, staring at the two morons sitting in front of me.
The first journalist looked sideways at his companion and gave him a skeptical look, with his eyes all scrunched up and mouth twisted sideways, maybe it wasn't a skeptical look, but it was some sort of 'she's fuckin crazy what the hell are we doing here?' look. Something like that.
The second journalist (yes, I don't remember their names) turned to me and, after a few seconds in which he looked to be in deep concentration, or about to shit his pants, he smirked at me.
"So your not really all badass are you? Your totally whipped!"
"Dude I am badass! Just not when it comes to Miley."
"Aww come on! We are supposed to be reporting on something awesome and dangerous and the best you can come up with is a stupid love story that isn't really love cuz the chick your all sprung on is a crazy bitch. Man, I did not come all the way to the wilderness for this."
And I laughed. Because it felt like the right thing to do, because there was no point in trying to convince two bonehead journalists that my story could probably become an instant bestseller novel. They have obviously never been in love.
Authors Note: I'm not too happy with the ending, but I wanted to post this. I enjoyed writing this, I started it without a purpose and ended up writing a lot of what I felt, and I ramble a lot so there you have it. I highly recommend you listen to the song Dizzy by the Goo Goo Dolls; it doesn't have much to do with the story, but it's awesome. On a side note: I'm very sorry if any of you are waiting for me to update Political Affair, I just don't know what to do with it, but I am trying hard to finish it.
Thanks very much for reading and please, leave a review.