He came in with his guitar, looking less alive than usual. He just sat there in his usual blackness, black guitar bag, black shirt, black pants - but there was something blacker than usual. I went over and gave him a pat on his head, "You alright?" "No." "Oh ok." I felt so bad not being able to do anything. It bugged me all through lunch. I went back and sat down in my seat, turned to my tool of major saver of embarressments - Mr. Laptop. Lizzay: WHY YOU SO SAD! HIM: long story about my gf. Lizzay: Oh my. Cheer up. You want sweet? HIM: it's ok Lizzay: I don't know what to say to make you feel better. HIM: it's alright. I don't think anything will now.
I left it at that, not knowing what to do. Later, I heard news of what had happened. It was her fault. A disgrace to girls. He also pushed away an advice to pray. He gave up praying.
If you ever stumble upon this, please, don't give up on praying. Its the only thing you've got. =)
ABOUTAGIRL
ZAB
My brain, my strings and my keys.
BMus Double Major
Songwriter (M)
Singer (M)
Pianist(m)
Guitarist (L)
Vision College, Hamilton, NZ LOVES
BrettCalebJoanneNick - Tutooooors and their bands DISCLAIMER
Everything in this blog is not to be taken literally sometimes.Thank you for reading and leave me a message. =)
