Baca The Real Reason Novels & Stories

Silent but aggressively tapping his leg, Glenn couldn't calm his anger, he glared at Bryan who was gulping a bottle of alcohol which he had smuggled from home to camp, since he was a minor and not allowed to have one. Summer stared worried at his uncommon temper, she wondered why his emotions were so heightened, May on the other hand, nervously squezzed her fingers worried about Emily and conflicted in her mind as to her decision for letting Emily go on her own.

I write back to this person. ' You said it, it's not existing!! We are not sure! Why do we have to leave if we don't know the reason why we left? Why do we have to let go if, in the first place, we really don't know if he or she is really holding on? I mean, why do we have to run away if we don't know who is chasing us? Why do we have to be tired if she didn't know that you're doing something for her? Why can't we make sure it first? Why can't we bet first? Why are we losing right away? Why are we giving up and let go so easily without even knowing the reasons? ' I write as fast as I can and put it back to the box. Minutes later, the paper got back again.

Some people use the excuse of falling in 'Love' to commit a crime- stalking, invading privacy rights, at worst, killing. Throwing a bunch of excuses like I killed him because he made my sister suffer or, killing a person for the reason the other person was cheating. Then love was made as a convenient reason to evade logical justification. Bea Von Eisyl, 26 years old, was once a victim of sexual assault, sexual harassment, and rape from her first boyfriend way back in her high school days. It took her a long time to heal the trauma that she had. She had experience falling in love again in her last year of college but they had broke of after 5 months. Reason? Because they can't have sex and he

that I .. that I.. I gave myself a reason to live a reason to be better a reason to be a better me, you are literally everything in my life that is good and I'm going to spend the rest of my life in that pain and regrets knowing fully well that you are out there and I am not with you... I'm so sorry it has to end like this... I'm leaving first thing tomorrow ". I exhaled and cleaned my tears. He's right, We don't always get what we want in the end

Prolog Clara I was once told;every season has a reason , nothing lasts forever ,the sun always follows the rain, and if things don't work out the way you want them to... They will work out the way the universe intended . If what I just said was true; why the hell am I in pain every time I go to sleep? Not physically though but emotionally.

Burn it down and make sure no one has the right to cover it up. I clicked send then closed my l aptop... and waited for Leo's kingdom to burn but why the fuck am I feeling this stupid tiny guilt at the depth of my heart

Breathe in one two three four five Breathe out one two three four five "If you ever catch yourself wondering why you're doing this, just remind yourself that you're doing this for whatever hobby or interest or collection that you're doing and that there are better things to be doing with your time that you're not doing because you're working, because you need the money to be doing the things that you love, alright? You're doing this to write that novel, to make that painting, or pottery piece, or to buy those tulips for your garden. Not because you like standing around while some lady, with her screaming toddler, screams in your face and spits on ya', alright?"

I looked at him. “I was wrong about the reason,” he said. “It wasn’t the letter. The letter was the frame but the reason was you.” He looked at me with the look that didn’t miss. “Specifically you. The shape of you in a room. The way you read a library. The way you walked past the east corridor every morning for three weeks before you stopped using the back stairs.” He paused. “The way you answered Marcus’s texts.” I held the cup. “That’s the reason,” he said. “Not the letter. Not the age. Not the arrangement or the complication or any of the walls.” He looked at the window. “You.”

We can not change the reality… "Why did you hide such an important thing to me ? How can you be so normal infront of me? How can you fake your smile every day ? What would have happen to me if one day you- you just disappear from my site and I know nothing…. Was I not important enough to know? What would I do without you mom?"

“Wait, seriously? You’re filing for a divorce because Matilda is 'not good in bed?' That is easily the most absurd reason for a legal separation I've ever heard.” He chuckled deeply, almost like my laughter had stirred up his, and his Adam's apple bounced in his throat. “It’s not as absurd as you think…” he added before he leaned back, and his gaze finally shifted from my papers to his, and his eyes softened. “The real reason is simple,” he murmured. “I stopped being happy a long time ago. I’d look across the dinner table and realise I was nothing more than a bank account with a pulse—a provider who happened to share her last name,” he added, raising his head to meet my gaze, and my fingers