Desire of the Soul (Prologue)
Title: Desire of the Soul
Rating: G but NC-17 in the future
Summary: Brendon just wants to be noticed, loved and cared for. Too bad it takes him through hell and back.
Warnings: Eating disorder fic, slash, eventual heavy boy sex.
Disclaimer: I don’t and will never ever own anything. Sadly.
It’s a question often asked in these types of stories. The stories of struggle and pain, of hurt and agony. No, I can’t pin exactly the moment I stopped being okay. The moment I stopped feeling as beautiful as everyone around me seemed to believe. The day I choose not to eat, because what could skipping one or two meals really hurt in the long run? But you’d be surprised how much just one meal can effect the rest of your life forever, how much disaster it can cause. It’s scary how much power food has that everyone takes for granted.
It’s that whole ‘You don’t know what you have until it’s gone’ phrase that everyone always says is so inspiring but never truly understands until they are put in a position of doing what’s right and loosing something you’ve worked so hard for. A pathway in a maze leading to a dead end with a sure failure either way and there’s no turning back.
It’s different for everyone, but everyone has a story. No one is ever silent when asked to tell the biggest regret of their life. Some just choose to grit their teeth and lie through smiles, but everyone has an untold side. It’s the severity of that untold story that makes the decision of significant or insignificant in our minds; that gives the opinion on weather or not it’s wroth the time of day to listen to. But sometimes it’s the smallest things that are connected to the biggest portion of our lives. Sometimes you need someone to listen to the little things, because otherwise that insignificance is no longer a simple wave of the hand with a comment of “Oh, nothing really” thrown over your shoulder.
This is my little story with no real relation to anything big and important. There are thousands, no, millions of people out there going through nearly the exact same situation. There are so many people going through way worse than I am.
What is it that gives me the right to seem so special?
Next Chapter: http://xx-dreamerz-xx.livejournal.com/1294.html#cutid1