do you ever feel like you’re just sort of
like all your friends go out and do things and get into relationships and like people that like them back and have fun and do stupid things with their best friends and instead of doing all that you’re just sort of this mildly entertaining thing that people take an interest in once in a while but they wouldn’t really care if it was gone
like you just sort of exist but you don’t really mean anything
(Source: the-gameissomething, via shawnphunters)
Fill this in with stuff about you
- Where I’m from: Texas
- Where I would like to live: Texas. I really miss home.
- Favorite food: breakfast. I can’t decide specifics.
- Religion: Christian.
- Sexual orientation: Straight
- Favorite book: Maybe, The Perks of Being a Wallflower.
- Eye color: Brown
- Favorite movie: The Sensation of Sight
- Favorite TV show: Of all time? Probably Friends
- Favorite band/singer: This is a silly question. I have no idea.
- Random fact about me: Stephen Chbosky told me I have real talent and should keep writing.
- Favorite season: Fall/Winter, particularly December.
- Favorite colour: Red, though lately I’ve taken to the color blue.
- If I have any pets; if so, their names: Two dogs named Gucci and Puppy (his name is actually Chewy/Chewbacca, but I’ve always just called him Puppy), and two cats - Queso and Tiki.
- What I’m listening to right now: The whirring of my fan.
- Last movie I’ve watched: Black Swan, I think.
- What’s my ringtone: Star Wars Cantina song.
- Favorite male character from a TV show: Either Stefan Salvatore or Ted Mosby.
- Favorite female character from a TV show: Probably Marissa Cooper.
- What my name means: Dominique means “of God”
- Favorite superhero: Spiderman
- Celebrity crush: Andrew Garfield.
(Source: carolineeeewitt, via shawnphunters)
I can’t remember exactly how deep her voice was or what color her eyes were beneath her black horn-rimmed glasses. She always wore her brown hair down, the edge just passing her shoulder, her face framed by hundreds of strands of hair.
She was in my P.E. Class. I saw her every day, but maybe I wasn’t really looking. The twinkle in her eye seemed real, the smile on her face so genuine. She would laugh and her crooked teeth showed, and that’s how I remember her: always happy, but maybe sometimes a little crooked.
I never saw the cuts on her arm. I never saw the pain in her eyes, or the tears that she must have cried. So many days passed, and yet I never saw her, just who I thought she was; or maybe who I thought she should be.
The day I saw who she really was happened to be the last day I remember seeing her. It was lunch and I was hungry, so I opened my lunch and started to eat. Someone sat next to her and pointed to the bracelets on her wrists, and then made a cutting motion across their own wrist with their finger.
She didn’t look in my eyes, and I didn’t dare try to make her. I pushed my lunch away, suddenly not so hungry anymore. I don’t know what happened next, but I remembered a broken voice, and the words, “This is the only way.”
I didn’t talk to her in P.E. We were never great friends, or at least that’s what I told myself. Sometimes lies can help us make it through the day.
I never saw her again. Her first name was Sarah, but I never knew her last name; it had never come up. I never found out what really happened to her. I never got to say goodbye.