Humans is powered by Vocal.
Vocal is a platform that provides storytelling tools and engaged communities for writers, musicians, filmmakers, podcasters, and other creators to get discovered and fund their creativity.
How does Vocal work?
Creators share their stories on Vocal’s communities. In return, creators earn money when they are tipped and when their stories are read.
How do I join Vocal?
Vocal welcomes creators of all shapes and sizes. Join for free and start creating.
To learn more about Vocal, visit our resources.Show less
I wrote this short story thinking about one girl that I liked since ever, but that will never be with me.
This story is about a "mental" break up; I tried to let her go imagining the two of us saying goodbye. I described my feelings, and I pictured her going away from me.
This girl has always been my "Chloe Price," a kind of a pipe dream that I used to love since the beginning. I have always been too shy to talk to her and that made it worse. Also, that's why the title is "Goodbye Blue Butterfly."
I remember listening to "Watcher" by Syd Matters and thinking about her, especially when this part of the song came:
"I'll never touch her
I'll never touch her
I'll never reach her
I'll never see her again
I'm so tired today
I cannot stand awake
Sometimes friends just told me that I should talk to her and let her know me, but when you lived all your life being called "the ugly and fat girl," all you can do is stay behind the stage and wait for a sign, or worse, give up.
It is not easy at all because feelings sometimes are just so overwhelming and every day is like living in a kind of limbo, waiting for a way out.
If you like it, please support me with a small tip or share it with your friends.
~ ~ ~ ~
I stared at her while she was walking away and never come back.
My heart gripped in my chest, and it became a boulder full of sadness and melancholia.
I will never see her blue eyes again.
How bitter can life be? We were made for each other, our glances, our caresses, our smiles, our hugs, and her lips... God, those lips.
The most beautiful girl I have ever seen was mine, even if it was just for the blink of an eye.
I have spent so much time looking at her, watching her, studying her gentle and insecure movements.
I have spent so much time falling in love with her, falling in love with her voice, with her Austrian accent, with her slightly wide hips and with her long and delicate fingers.
The more I stared at her going away, the more I felt lost and breathless.
My lungs burned, just like that time I chased her to ask for her telephone number.
Step by step, her shape was getting smaller and smaller.
I keep telling myself that this is the right choice to make so that no one will suffer anymore. I continue telling myself that, for sure, she will be better with her.
After all, I couldn't give her a stable relationship.
Then why do I feel so sick?
Why do I hear my soul screaming and mangling itself at the idea of never seeing her again, at the thought of never watching her embarrassed smile again?
Spring is for arising loves, so why mine is fading?
Why am I letting go of the girl who made my heart beat and exploding my brain?
Her soft wiggle became more and more distant in the warm sun of the evening and me, leaning against the wall, felt even more lost.
My eyes were burning so much that I felt one tremendous pain. I did not want her to see me cry. That would have made it harder.
With clenched fists, I took the opposite direction and without looking back, I run at a breathtaking speed above the cobblestone Lisbon's road.
Farewell, my sweet beloved.
I hope you will be happy.