I unburied many things to Dr. Locke, and to some of the friends I made in the past few years. But I still think some things have no explanation and I still have not found a way of translating them into words. I still think some things can have a place only in my heart, and I will keep them there, even if they hurt. Mark rings after work to ask me what time do I want him to pick me up tomorrow. I listen to his voice pronouncing words that make no sense to me and deep down I know I’m not going away for the weekend with him. I’m not going anywhere with him; he was an encore when I needed one, nothing more. We have nothing in common and I know I don’t need encores anymore. I’m not a neglected child who needs protection; I know where I’m going now. I may still be slow, and I stop sometimes because of the burden I carry on my shoulders but I will get there in the end, alone.
‘Alone’ (final paragraph).
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nicoletta.peddis
This is my writing blog! I'm a 30 years old Sardinian girl living in (old) York. If I had to define myself in a few words I'd say: writer, reader, daydreamer, over thinker. I'm currently studying Creative Writing and English Literature at York St John's University and I'm interested in short stories and novel writing, journalism and international politics. I write all the things I can't say out loud. I love everything music. I hate intolerance, racism, small-minded people and every kind of discrimination. I speak Sardinian, Italian, English; I'm currently studying Spanish and I'm always willing to learn more languages. View all posts by nicoletta.peddis