the first time i fell in love with a girl, i made her a book.
this love, new and exiting, sparked excitement and curiosity and wonderment.
with pages adorned with words we had spoken to each other, a careful scheme of pinks and greys painted the canvas of our relationship.
from cover to cover it told a story of love, positivity and passion from me to her.
the second time i fell in love with a girl, i made her a book.
this love, unlike the last, was raw and accidental and kept a very close secret for a very long time.
to provide a ray of sunshine on a rainy day, a spark of light in the dark.
hues of the rainbow filled each line and photos of many people meaningful to her.
words followed onto the page and described my compassion and her importance and the reasons she had to live.
and that book told her everything i wanted her to know even when I could not speak.
then the third time i fell in love with a girl, I made her a book.
this love, unlike the last, was the hardest to learn and the hardest to accept.
the date. positive words. things I am thankful for. the best moments of a day. the things worth waking up for.
filled within the pages are words more important than those I had ever written before, words that sometimes needed to be read again and again and again.
the third girl i fell in love with, i made her a book. because i learnt that those girls before are just as loved, important and valid as i am to me.
YOU ARE READING
A Glimpse of Fiction
Short StoryOne-shots, short stories and contest entries are in here! It's a little insight to the fictional havoc in my head.
