May 10, 2011
By S-s-s-oph SILVER, Bristol, Other
S-s-s-oph SILVER, Bristol, Other
5 articles 0 photos 5 comments

Favorite Quote:
. To me, "FEARLESS" is not the absence of fear. It's not being completely unafraid. To me, FEARLESS is having fears. FEARLESS is having doubts. Lots of them. To me, FEARLESS is living in spite of those things that scare you to death. FEARLESS is falling madly in love again, even though you've been hurt before. FEARLESS is walking into your freshmen year of high school at fifteen. FEARLESS is getting back up and fighting for what you want over and over again … even though every time you've tried before, you've lost. It's FEARLESS to have that someday things will change. FEARLSS is having the courage to say goodbye to someone who only hurts you, even if you can't breathe without them. I think it's FEARLESS to fall for your best friend, even though he's in love with someone else. And when someone apologizes to you enough times for things they'll never stop doing, I think it's FEARLESS to top believing them. It's FEARLESS to say, "you're NOT sorry", and walk away. I think loving someone despite what people think is FEARLESS. I think allowing yourself to cry on the bathroom floor is FEARLESS. Letting go is FEARLESS. Then, moving on and being alright … That's FEARLESS too. But no matter what love throws at you, you have to believe in it. You have to believe in love stories and prince charmings and happily ever after. That's why I write these songs. Because I think love is FEARLESS

I sat there, waiting. Though I held a mug of steaming coffee, it was not enough to thaw my heart. And I sat there, waiting. Waiting for the man that I knew would never come. My jumbled thoughts drifted back to my childhood, to when my life was carefree, and all seemed was but a game. I was happy. I could never recognize 'happy' again, it seemed. And I sat there, waiting. I thought of when we first met. I was a waitress in that bar. It was love at first sight. And he had said so too. I thought of when we bought our first house, together. A house of our very own. Together. A weird word, I thought. It should be spelt 'twogether'. Two together. Him and me. Me and him. It would last forever, us being together. Or so I thought. Together. Forever. And now it seems like someone has scribbled over those words. And I sat there, waiting. Alone. Forever. A wan smile formed on my lips. And still I sat there, waiting. I glanced at the ring on my finger. I hoped. But hope is not enough to bring a man back from the dead.

The author's comments:
In all honesty I can't say where this piece came from. It is from no event in my life but somehow is something I found myself gravitating towards writing about... so I did.

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