The Bubble Saga

I wanna try doing this prompt. Let’s give it a shot, okay?


 

I have always wanted to tell you how annoyed I was with you. How irritating the way you put your arms on the top my head as if I am an armrest. But I didn’t. I didn’t want a simple thing to ruin what we have. What we had. I made sure nothing could pop our bubble. But like all bubbles, sooner or later, it’ll pop on its own.

Our story was never a love story. Ours was a saga. An epic filled with adventures. However, we took separate paths when we reached the end. You chose an new exciting adventure than keep having a humdrum hike with me.

You know what? It might not even be a love story. I may have imagined it all. No?

Let’s call our story the “bubble saga”. Because our story, although long and full of both adventures and misadventures, is always at risk of a sudden death. I never knew my place with you. I never knew if you did love me. All I knew was you were acting like you do. I thought we just never needed words or labels. But I was wrong.

We have known each other since second grade. We hated each other. It was the perfect start of a love story. We then became friends. I started to care about you. Come eighth grade, I was trying to impress you. I stopped being sloppy. I started to care about how I look. I joined the choir to spend more time with you. We started to spend more time together. You never told me about any other girl. You always looked at me like I’m the most beautiful girl you ever saw.

Even though I hated your long hair, I love the way you flip them when you sing and play the guitar. Even though I hated that you always shuffle my hair, I love that you like touching me. Even though I hated that you didn’t go to college, I love that I can still be with you. Even though I hated the too cute lyrics of your songs, I love how you sing about me.

When I turned 17 and you turned 21, I knew it was my chance to finally ask you what we really are. I have imagined what you’ll say the moment I ask you. “I’ll wait for you. I’ll wait ’till you’re 18.”

Yet, one day, you broke my heart. It was when I asked your band mate where you were and he said, “He at his girlfriend’s place.”

Our fading bubble finally burst. My heart shattered to pieces. I prayed you would deny. I prayed it wasn’t true. Then you said the most painful words ever.

“Didn’t I tell you? We have been together for couple of years now. All my songs are about her. Didn’t you notice?”

However, my saga continues. Turns out, my story with you was just a chapter. 



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Love is…

Love is when you have different versions of fun but you don’t mind doing both.

Love is telling stories and laughing together.

Love is playing video games with him. Even if you can’t figure out how to control the console or what the point of the game is.

Love isn’t compromise.

It isn’t sacrifice either.

Love is a choice.

You, choosing to do things because of that special person and not even feel disadvantaged.

You, choosing to count the things you love about him rather than the things that annoy you.

You, not even minding that he keeps on doing the most annoying thing you hate.

It’s when letting go of your pride is so easy because you know it is never an option to be mad for so long.

Love is when you choose to love.

Love is ©

Finding Pierre: A Modern Love Story

This is an original short. Read on! I hope you like it. Don’t forget to comment, like and subscribe! ♥


My roommate, Nicole, turned on the TV with the volume a little too loud. I’m quite sure I mentioned that I am studying for my Japanese Literature test. How inconsiderate. As I stood up to chide her about living with roommates, I heard a very sexy husky voice being interviewed. I was intrigued and ran to our TV room-slash-dining room.

A very attractive guy is being interviewed live on XYZ TV. I suddenly felt this weird thing. It’s like my heart is jumping on a trampoline and an area down below is sweating. Man, that guy is hot. 

“Desiree,” Nicole called out, “Are you okay? You look like you just saw a naked guy for the first time.”

Her voice got my attention and I turned towards her direction. “What?”

“You’re spacing out. Is something wrong?” she asked while turning down the TV volume. I suddenly remembered my initial purpose for charging at the room.

I felt quite embarrassed, what if she saw me lusting at that celebrity? We’ve just been roommates for a couple of months and I’m already showing her how weird I am. “I just wanted to ask you to turn down the TV volume, I was studying for a test.”

Her eyes widened, hinting she remembered my heads-up. “OMG. Sorry. I totally forgot. My ears are just getting a bit deaf for some reason. I’m really sorry.”

“It’s okay. Just try to check on me first next time.” She gave me a sheepish smile. I turned to go then I suddenly remembered to ask her, “Also, do you know what that celebrity’s name is?”

“Who? The guy being interviewed?”

“Yep. Is he an actor or something?” I casually asked.

“Oh. That’s Pierre Simmons, and no, he’s not an actor. He’s a reality TV star. Why’d you ask?” Nicole queried, probably noticing the weird attention I’m suddenly giving this celebrity when I don’t really watch TV.

It took me about half a minute to make up an excuse. “He… I… You know…” Stop stuttering. Sh*t. “I just wondered. He’s cute.”

Fortunately, Nicole seemed not to notice my awkwardness and responded casually, “Yeah. A total hunk. Too bad though, girls like us will never get a chance to date him.”

“AND WHY NOT?” Oops. I shouldn’t have raised my voice. 

Nicole laughed, “You seem really interested at this guy. Well, we can’t date him because he’s famous. He doesn’t even know we exist, girl.”

Kill me. Now. I hope the ground swallows me whole. Right. Now. This is so embarrassing. Good thing Nicole is so cool about it. “I know. It’s just… I just don’t agree. I think girls like us can still date guys like him.”

She laughed again. I guess Nicole’s quite cool. College is definitely different from high school. If this happened in high school, I would have been bullied about it for the whole year. “Maybe you’re right, Desiree. Although it’s a very slim chance.” Before I can respond, she changed the topic. “So how’s your classes going? Any cute guy so far?”

I’m actually quite glad she changed the subject. I still don’t trust her enough to tell her about the plan elaborating in my head. I will find a way to meet this Pierre Simmons in person. 

To be continued. 


Author's note: This is an idea prompted by Creative Writing Now 
and I am liking it. 
I wonder if I should make a novella out of it. 
What do you think? Comment below what you think. 
Thank you! ♥ Toodles!