~Forever And The Truth~
Well, once toi started lire there is nothing stopping me from giving toi a short review of something. Let’s begin, because everything in life starts with a beginning, except for death. But I am not giving a lot of l’espace here for écriture about death ou about how I Lost my parents/best friend/boyfriend, because THIS is not that kind of story. It is a l’amour story, though. Let’s begin (without talking about dead) with saying something about the relationship between ME and LOVE. There is a lack of loving in my life right now, but I do hope for a usual l’amour story that would last forever, with all its ups and downs. Forever changes-you have to agree. It differs from man to man, from thing to thing. Relationship’s forever could end in an hour, a minute ou a seconde and the worlds forever might last for billion years. My forever will end when I want it to ou when I die. It’s the way I see it. This book will not talk about being with someone forever, even though toi are dying to read one plus amazing everlasting l’amour story that ends with a “they lived happily ever after”. It is about a different (or the same?) l’amour story that toi are going through. No l’amour at first sight, no dying together (go to the bibliothèque and get Romeo& Juliet if toi like that ending) and, especially no truth in it. THIS never happened, if you’re asking me. toi want to know what never happened. Are toi ready for the big ride indeed? No, I don’t think so, but I wasn’t ready either.
~One~
I was sitting on a plage and I was about 12 years old. The boy came and in his eyes I saw love. We kissed and a jour after that he left. Ten years after that jour I found him and we married. Not quite like that, but I was sitting on a plage and I was 12. The sun was rising above the mountains and the waves were crushing in the coast. I could write the most beautiful paragraph and blab about the big red sun warming up my paled skin, but it was a cold day. I remember wearing a big blue veste to warm me up, so if toi thought I am an “emo” who wears black only, stop kidding yourself and get along with the story ou stop reading. I am not gay either, although I have nothing against homo population. It was windy and the sand was still wet, since the raining season started last week, but I was sitting there for an heure already. No, I was not just “enjoying the view” and I wasn’t waiting for my knight in shining armor. I was lire a book and since I was a book worm, I couldn’t leave it just 50 pages away from finding out who was the ABC killer Agatha wrote about. People were walking par me, jogging so they would lose some weight ou just stay in shape, some of them would stop par for a seconde and give me a look, but most of them didn’t even notice me standing there in my big blue jacket. My phone vibrated just as an old wrinkly lady passed par me jogging. Well, not really jogging, since it way plus like walking. Call it a chicken ou whatever, the thing is she passed by. I looked quickly at a text. “Doručak”. ou “Breakfast” for non Serbians. I know, toi were disappointed when toi searched up Serbia on the Google Maps and saw that it doesn’t have a sea side. It was a holiday, though. Montenegro isn’t a populaire place where rich people go for the vacations, but I liked it, so deal with another thing- this story is not happening in Italy/New York/Miami ou Sydney, Australia. And Montenegro is just a place on the hills, so the house where I am staying was far away from the plage and I didn’t run into the house, but I had to deal with going up the hill, just so I would come too late.
“You’re late again. Eat fast.”-My mum answered. No, I didn’t have problems with her, but she wasn’t my bestie either and I am proud to announce that I am extremely happy because of it. “You and me are going for a walk and your brother is going fishing.”-She finished.
“Yey.” I a dit with no excitement in my voice. I was a sarcastic person, if toi didn’t notice. They all just gave me the GoshStopIt look and continued eating in silence. It was a usual family’s breakfast. A non-father family, though, since he left us when I was 3 and my brother was 6. It was a usual family jour out, but one thing changed me that day. I know toi want me too add “love” to that announcement, but it’s not going to happen. I- Alisa Milovanovich- met my neighbor. Now- it’s not a usual girl neighbor, it’s a boy neighbor. They just settled in a house suivant door and invited us in for some coffee. His mum Charmed my mum, so she decided to stay in their house instead of taking the walk she talked about this morning. I didn’t feel anything like girls from those l’amour stories I l’amour that much. I didn’t talk to him about my memories, my loss, my depression and I didn’t feel like s’embrasser his fraise lips either. We spent plus then an heure playing Playstation 2 and talking about stupid teachers in our schools. His name was Luke and he was 14. It would be a big time difference if I had any Friends my age, but my Friends were mostly 15 ou older, so I thought of him as he was my age. He was good looking, I must admit. He had that spiky black hair and nice green eyes, his smile was really nice and his body was something to be proud about (not that I care about bodies). Right now toi are just pissed off. No action? No bonding? No chemistry? Oh, I knew that will happen and toi were warned. If toi really care about what happened I’ll keep toi informed, don’t worry. If not, leave the story unread and close this page. Yes, I know. I know that playing The Little Mermaid and talking about centuries old history teachers is not really expected to be the first thing toi do with your soon-to-be boyfriend (spoiler), but I didn’t know it back then. For me- he was a friend, nothing more. For him- it was already l’amour after the seconde level.
Well, once toi started lire there is nothing stopping me from giving toi a short review of something. Let’s begin, because everything in life starts with a beginning, except for death. But I am not giving a lot of l’espace here for écriture about death ou about how I Lost my parents/best friend/boyfriend, because THIS is not that kind of story. It is a l’amour story, though. Let’s begin (without talking about dead) with saying something about the relationship between ME and LOVE. There is a lack of loving in my life right now, but I do hope for a usual l’amour story that would last forever, with all its ups and downs. Forever changes-you have to agree. It differs from man to man, from thing to thing. Relationship’s forever could end in an hour, a minute ou a seconde and the worlds forever might last for billion years. My forever will end when I want it to ou when I die. It’s the way I see it. This book will not talk about being with someone forever, even though toi are dying to read one plus amazing everlasting l’amour story that ends with a “they lived happily ever after”. It is about a different (or the same?) l’amour story that toi are going through. No l’amour at first sight, no dying together (go to the bibliothèque and get Romeo& Juliet if toi like that ending) and, especially no truth in it. THIS never happened, if you’re asking me. toi want to know what never happened. Are toi ready for the big ride indeed? No, I don’t think so, but I wasn’t ready either.
~One~
I was sitting on a plage and I was about 12 years old. The boy came and in his eyes I saw love. We kissed and a jour after that he left. Ten years after that jour I found him and we married. Not quite like that, but I was sitting on a plage and I was 12. The sun was rising above the mountains and the waves were crushing in the coast. I could write the most beautiful paragraph and blab about the big red sun warming up my paled skin, but it was a cold day. I remember wearing a big blue veste to warm me up, so if toi thought I am an “emo” who wears black only, stop kidding yourself and get along with the story ou stop reading. I am not gay either, although I have nothing against homo population. It was windy and the sand was still wet, since the raining season started last week, but I was sitting there for an heure already. No, I was not just “enjoying the view” and I wasn’t waiting for my knight in shining armor. I was lire a book and since I was a book worm, I couldn’t leave it just 50 pages away from finding out who was the ABC killer Agatha wrote about. People were walking par me, jogging so they would lose some weight ou just stay in shape, some of them would stop par for a seconde and give me a look, but most of them didn’t even notice me standing there in my big blue jacket. My phone vibrated just as an old wrinkly lady passed par me jogging. Well, not really jogging, since it way plus like walking. Call it a chicken ou whatever, the thing is she passed by. I looked quickly at a text. “Doručak”. ou “Breakfast” for non Serbians. I know, toi were disappointed when toi searched up Serbia on the Google Maps and saw that it doesn’t have a sea side. It was a holiday, though. Montenegro isn’t a populaire place where rich people go for the vacations, but I liked it, so deal with another thing- this story is not happening in Italy/New York/Miami ou Sydney, Australia. And Montenegro is just a place on the hills, so the house where I am staying was far away from the plage and I didn’t run into the house, but I had to deal with going up the hill, just so I would come too late.
“You’re late again. Eat fast.”-My mum answered. No, I didn’t have problems with her, but she wasn’t my bestie either and I am proud to announce that I am extremely happy because of it. “You and me are going for a walk and your brother is going fishing.”-She finished.
“Yey.” I a dit with no excitement in my voice. I was a sarcastic person, if toi didn’t notice. They all just gave me the GoshStopIt look and continued eating in silence. It was a usual family’s breakfast. A non-father family, though, since he left us when I was 3 and my brother was 6. It was a usual family jour out, but one thing changed me that day. I know toi want me too add “love” to that announcement, but it’s not going to happen. I- Alisa Milovanovich- met my neighbor. Now- it’s not a usual girl neighbor, it’s a boy neighbor. They just settled in a house suivant door and invited us in for some coffee. His mum Charmed my mum, so she decided to stay in their house instead of taking the walk she talked about this morning. I didn’t feel anything like girls from those l’amour stories I l’amour that much. I didn’t talk to him about my memories, my loss, my depression and I didn’t feel like s’embrasser his fraise lips either. We spent plus then an heure playing Playstation 2 and talking about stupid teachers in our schools. His name was Luke and he was 14. It would be a big time difference if I had any Friends my age, but my Friends were mostly 15 ou older, so I thought of him as he was my age. He was good looking, I must admit. He had that spiky black hair and nice green eyes, his smile was really nice and his body was something to be proud about (not that I care about bodies). Right now toi are just pissed off. No action? No bonding? No chemistry? Oh, I knew that will happen and toi were warned. If toi really care about what happened I’ll keep toi informed, don’t worry. If not, leave the story unread and close this page. Yes, I know. I know that playing The Little Mermaid and talking about centuries old history teachers is not really expected to be the first thing toi do with your soon-to-be boyfriend (spoiler), but I didn’t know it back then. For me- he was a friend, nothing more. For him- it was already l’amour after the seconde level.