(no subject)

[gemmygrl_toto]

My story is not one that has been told before. Chunks of my life seem to have been pulled for sotry books and patched together to form the patchwork quilt of a framework that dictates my life. So many cliche plot lines run together in it, yet I doubt they have ever been patched together in the way they are now with me. I doubt there has ever been a heroine quite like me. But perhaps there has. Maybe the uniqueness I hold so dear to myself doens't exist at all. Sotime I feel as though I am a story. I can't dictate what happens, it just does. As if someone's will is leading all the events that form around me. Leading everythign but who I am. And they don't even know where they're taking the story. But I've finaly got the end in sight that I want. I've found the ending that will make me happy. And if anyone's pen tries to pull me from that path I will fight it until my destruction.

I miss hockey. I miss my hockey firends. I miss tearing up the ice. I miss strategizing plays. I miss the rush of the cold air as it whips across my face. I miss the feeling of pride when a perfect play is completed. I miss the sense of team unity. I miss partying with my teammates. I miss the long car trips. I miss the loud locker room music. I miss getting off the ice feeling broken down and weary. I mis the butterflies of anticipation that filled my stomach before each game. I miss the drive of wanting to get better with each stride I took. I miss the rush. I miss it all.