She named him David. Not for any particular reason, she just always liked that name. Later on she heard the parents discuss the name James Juniour, and her heart broke as she realised that, despite giving him life, he was not hers to name, know, raise, kiss, hug.
But she loved him. All her life she loved him as David James Juniour. Her boy.
fredag den 23. april 2010
Untitled #1
The thing about falling in love is the whole cliché you find yourself in.
Because suddenly, love does make you blind. And suddenly it does make you do crazy things.
You find yourself wholly uncapable of being rational or sensible, or in any way make any sense.
It's exhilerating and addictive and most unhealthy. Supposedly it's something you aspire to, love, you wish for it in the middle of the night.
But I swear by everything and anything holy. I will not rest until this god-forsaken sensation is out of my body.
I refuse to adhere to my emotions any longer.
This has gone too far.
I am not acting like myself.
I have transformed into a mindless simpering fool, and I hate it.
- But he's just so cute.
Because suddenly, love does make you blind. And suddenly it does make you do crazy things.
You find yourself wholly uncapable of being rational or sensible, or in any way make any sense.
It's exhilerating and addictive and most unhealthy. Supposedly it's something you aspire to, love, you wish for it in the middle of the night.
But I swear by everything and anything holy. I will not rest until this god-forsaken sensation is out of my body.
I refuse to adhere to my emotions any longer.
This has gone too far.
I am not acting like myself.
I have transformed into a mindless simpering fool, and I hate it.
- But he's just so cute.
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