the olive theory

intro :)

hello! 

          it's been a while since I uploaded I know! so hi once again guys. I just wanted to say a little something about this book. first of all, it's for a writing class that I'm taking. chapters will come out throughout the class and the book should be over around january to february. second, this is for fun. i wanted to make a little intro chapter with a snibbit of it to see if it will get traction. so here it is, enjoy!

        chapter one: olive

It's true you know, the olive theory. I hate olives more than anything. Olives are the epitome of loathsomeness. They're vomit green, the red in the middle irks my stomach, and the sheer thought of those wretched vegetables makes me gag. That's what I was thinking as I was picking my olives off my plate in the dimly lit restaurant that honestly felt more like a horror movie setting than a homey diner. That's when he asked the question that made my life change forever. No, he didn't propose to me--it was only our first date. Though with the way he makes my stomach do cartwheels while riding on a surfboard I wouldn't be too opposed to the idea. I was so deep in thought I almost missed him sweeping my olives off my plate. He didn't even hesitate, it was like he was waiting for this opportunity his whole life. It's like he was waiting for the perfect moment to take Olive for himself.

"Do you really not like Olives, Liv?" I looked up at him with a confused expression. "You do?" I asked with that stupid look on my face.

Of course, he likes olives. It's so blatantly obvious that someone as put together and successful would like olives.

"They're perfect, the taste always brings a smile to my face. I used to eat them a lot as a kid, which brings me back to the easier times."

There have never been easier times for me. Those times never really existed. Ever since I was little there's been this constant pressure to be better. Sure, when I was a child I probably didn't have to worry about the stress of my next exam or making sure I got the highest grades in my class, but my memory is not the best. People talk that not remembering your childhood is a trauma response, your mind represses the memories that pain you. I don't necessarily believe that is true---I also don't necessarily believe it's false either though. I remember my tweens. I remember my teenage years. I don't remember anything that was before the ripe age of ten years old. I feel like my brain repressed the good memories and intensified the memory of the bad ones.