Suprisingly Original...I Think

Muskaan- Creative Post Katie- Free Post

It hurts, but it's easy. At first, anyway. The beginning is easiest because I haven't had a chance to miss you yet. We knew it needed to happen. Our hearts simply did not beat the same rhythm anymore. At different paces, our hearts were killing each each other's. So we decided to separate them. Our hearts separated, as did our minds, and our souls. We walked away from each other. Our lives no longer combined. The first part was easy. I thought my life would be better without you. And maybe it is. But the hard part is that I miss you. When I am reminded of something we used to share, I remember how much I loved you. I want you to know I still do. Even though you share our inside jokes with someone else, I will always be here for you. We're walking two different paths. Maybe one day, they'll collide again.

I am really enjoying Purple Hibiscus so far. Thus far, the book has been quite sad, but that is not a bad thing; it portrays the darker parts of life, and is incredibly honest and real. Kambili has gone through a lot of trauma dealing with her father's abuse. The depictions of abuse throughout the book are incredibly difficult to read, but I am glad Adichie chose to go there, because she is shedding light on a topic people would rather forget. Throughout the novel thus far, Kambili is struggling to grow into her own person and develop who she is because she is too busy processing school and her father's actions. Kambili wants to make friends and grow as a person, but she can't because she has to deal with her father. Kambili does not really know who she is outside of her family. I can tell she is trying to grow, but is constantly stopped by her school and family. It seems as though her father does not care that she is a well-rounded person, but all he cares about is h

Hair There was the one with the dirty blonde hair. He was bright, and happy, and loving, as someone with blonde hair would be expected to be. Soon, the dirty part came out. And that is when I realized just how dirty he was willing to let his hair get when it came to staying popular. There was the one with the black hair. He was dark, and mysterious, and beautiful. I was drawn to that. Staying with him made me feel safe, because I thought he would protect me. But I soon would learn, he was interested in protecting a lot of guys. I was not as special as I thought. And then there was the one with the gray hair. He was new, and exciting, and something I did not see coming. I liked his kindness. His originality was something I admired. Unfortunately for me, the only thing he admired about me was my willingness to let him hurt me. Every boy, same story, different hair. Not muc