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You say you're sorry for arguing. I agree. You do like to argue, but I leave you be because you look so beautiful when you lie. It breaks my heart when you are wrong, and I don't want to be the one to tell you you are. Your guitar strumming isn't right, your fingers look so clumsy as they strum across the strings, picking at the tunes, and I am tempted to cover my ears at the sound, but I don't move my hands an inch. You look so beautiful when you play, and I'd hate to make you stop, no matter how horrible the sounds that come from your hands may be. And then when you finish, and look up at my face, I feel sorry for you. Those thin hands that hold no sense of music in them. You try so hard though, and I like to cheer you on and kiss your rough cheeks to push you forward. Some people think I'm crazy for loving you, but I can't help it. We were meant to be together and I'd hate to ruin these moments just because of my doubts. Or maybe it is my friends' doubts? I don't know, but do you really care? I let you win, all because you just love to win. You are so competitive, it amazes me how you've made it through your life winning as many times as you have. You don't really seem to have much of a fight behind those wood-colored eyes. You're rusty in your skills, but I still love the way you are, without all those extra things. I let you be mean to me. It doesn't matter that much if you take a hand to me every once in a while. It doesn't hurt for that long, and I soon forget about the entire argument and let you kiss me again. I don't care if you let me know when I'm wrong, I just want you to forgive me for my mistakes. I don't mean what I say to you. It just comes out so wrong, and I guess you're trying to make me a better person. I forgive you for everything, for being imperfect, for making me even more imperfect, and then for being beautiful enough to make it all right again. But I'm leaving, I'm drifting, I'm falling through the cracks you've left. And now, I'm gone.
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Stories
Letter to the Unknown
Who Is He?
Scattered Among the Trees
I Don't Believe In Destiny
Poetry (not exactly my forte, but I try)