I don't read books because when I read them, my brain automatically makes me feel like what is happening in the story, is what is happening or happened to me. In my Language Art's class, we are required to read a Fiction book. I picked one called, 3:59. I am only on page 39 and I already am crying. If you have read it....You will understand why I feel this way. I will say that....Josie's (the main character) boyfriend, Nick, had been cheating on her for 2 months, with Josie's best Friend, Madison. I can't lie. I would do the exact same thing she did, or wanted to do. Shut off the lights, lock her bedroom door, go back to bed, pull the covers over her head, and not come out until forever. No one likes being cheated on. No one likes hearing about it happen to other's. (Unless your some sick fucking freak). I can't help but keep thinking that I am Josie, and that this is happening to me, even when it isn't, hasn't, and hopefully ever wont. Everyone out there who has cheated, you should be ashamed of yourself. Deeply ashamed of yourself. Don't you think that they have feelings? Do you think that they wont care? Do you wanna see if you can get away with it? If you do get away with it, that's.. wrong. Whats the point of dating if your just gonna cheat? Why don't you just become a fucking Pimp or Whore? Make some money while your at it, huh? Fucking Skanks and no lifers. You are sick. Sorry but it's true, and how they described what happened in the book has really fucking upset me. They said in detail that his shirt was off and Madison's sweater was partially unbuttoned. The feeling wont go away that this is happening to me when... I... know it isn't. I needed somewhere to put this all out. But I know some people don't care about other's feelings and shit blah blah blah, think I am complaining and ranting and shit. No. I am just saying. Not Screaming or crying, or ranting like a child.
Artwork on the top by Malicious-Demi