Here's a story that my Pri schmate have created. He's a director for this story and I'll be the main character as e girl and Adam will be e guy. Let e rolling begins!"She said that she wanted to get high. He took her to the tallest hill in town. She said that she wanted to stay up all night and drink. He gave her a 12 pack of caffeinated pepsi and said “drink up.” She said that she wanted to shoot herself in the face. He gave her a water gun, put her finger on the trigger, aimed it at her face, and helped her pull the trigger. She said that she wanted to cut herself. He took a polaroid of her, handed it to her along with scissors, and had her cut it up. She said that she wanted to see her blood. He took her to get her ears pierced. She said that she wanted to cry herself to sleep. He had her watch a sad, romantic movie before bed. She said that she wanted to be alone. He gave her a name tag that said “my name is: alone.” She said that she wanted to have someone there to take care of her, always. He asked when he wasn’t..."
So the story is gonna be
Adam as your lover
Initially you don't like him
but slowly when you fall for him,
he slips away from you
cause he has brain cancer
One day as you are celebrating your birthday
and waiting for his arrival,
he doesn't show up
You got so mad
that your friends have to calm you down
Its 11pm and he's still not here yet
38 missed calls. 124 msgs sent. No news from him
Then, someone comes in your room
He passed away this morning,
smilling,
holding a picture of you and him
and a note saying;
"I've never regret spending the last few days of my life trying to steal your heart"
When adam says he loves you, this is what you're gonna say to him:
"If you are going to fall in love with me, it’s only fair that you know what you are falling in love with.
You are falling in love with my insecurities, and my obsession with trying to figure out what everyone thinks of me. You are falling in love with my immaturity, my constant need to feel loved and appreciated, my overactive tear ducts, my internet obsession, my tendency to be too clingy. You fall in love with my troubled past, and my hopes and dreams, and how I’m a hopeless romantic at heart. If you fall in love with me, you fall in love with my self-hate and all my imperfections and my perception that nobody could ever love me.
But, you are also falling in love with the way my eyes will smile when I’m with you, the way I’ll text you in the mornings just telling you I hope you have a great day. You’re falling in love with the occasionally humorous and/or thought-provoking things I say, and the way I blush when people ask me about you. But to me, the most important thing will be that you are falling in love with me, despite my thinking that it is impossible."
Then at the funeral, as you sit beside his grave, you say this:
"I’m the girl who prefers one rose instead of a dozen. I’m the girl who would rather stay in on a Friday night than go to a wild party with random strangers. I’m the girl who wouldn’t make you wait on her hand and foot, but would do anything to make you happy. I’m the girl who would enjoy having a movie night rather than going to some fancy restaurant. I’m the girl who would rather stay up all night sharing secrets than going out and getting drunk. I’m the girl who won’t make you hold her bags, but would rather hold your hand instead. I’m the girl who will love you more than anyone can possibly dream of. I’m the girl who would give the world to see you smile." Touched by the story? Well, I call this story Marie Ave:))
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