#thebookiwillneverwrite

Only then will I realise that what my mother should have said to me- My daughter: Do not make the same mistakes I did. See your beauty without his compliments and your worth while watching him leave- or this will be our cycle.

Sometimes, you meet someone who you’d least expect to make an impact on your life. They come at those unlikely moments. They create a “before” and an “after” era. They brighten your world like the sunrise and every day all you want to do is wake up to that sunrise. They ignite a fire in your soul that cannot be extinguished. And in one swift movement, everything you thought you knew is completely turned upside down and it’s as if all you knew before doesn’t make anymore sense. The only real thing, is the person standing there, right in front of you. They change your goals and your dreams. They teach you things you never knew about yourself. And it’s where you just know, that this is it. That you could live with this… No, that you can’t live without this. Because there is nothing and no one out there better for you than the person standing right in front of you. #thebookiwillneverwrite

Stories from #TheBookIWillNeverWrite 🙁

I don't know the person in this photo. She beguiled her former self, blossoming into a woman that has reprimanded reformation in herself and lost interest in her own insecurities. She ensnares an iridescence so incandescent, it almost hurts to look. The woman in this photo, a perplexing acquaintance - I'm thirsty for more. #thebookiwillneverwrite (at Somerville, Massachusetts)

It's been awhile since I've found myself attracted to something, let alone act on that attraction. The resistance in your stare, the melancholy biting through your smile. With the eclipse of your presence and the intrepid creature inside me; the subtle nuances, prompting my curiosity in exchanging pleasantries. Igniting me, giving me life. #flightattendantlife #thebookiwillneverwrite (at SFO Domestic Terminal 2-Departures)

I thought if I reached just that much farther, I would be able to fix her. If I could somehow pour promise back into the cerulean pools of emptiness that blocked out her soul from the world, she could finally be saved. She could be free. But, as always, I was wrong. Used and abused yet again, because I’m too damned forgiving to realise I myself am a smouldering heap of ashes drifting on a wind of her indifference to my love. I see it in the way she says my name, lips curling as if I am an acid corroding her tongue. As if I am a disgusting and pungent odour being released from one of the many hells trapped within her being. I KNOW she hates my presence the same way Lucifer seethed at the love and all encompassing light of God, but I CANNOT bring myself to let her fall. Just when I think I can banish her to the hell she deserves, I give her just one more chance. Even as I am destroyed, I know she can be salvaged.  And I know she is a succubus stealing my essence to save for herself later, but if I reach just that much farther, I will be able to fix her. I will be able to fix her. I will . . .

Alice hesitated for a moment before pressing the reboot button at the back of her head.