I should be sleeping, but I’ve just finished a heart-wrenching novel. The tears are still drying on my face. The book is called Five Feet Apart. Maybe you’ve heard about it. It’s a book based on a movie (backwards, I know) that is set to release in March of this year. It is about two teens living with CF who ultimately, you guessed it, fall in love. It was a very cheesy, corny novel; your typical John Green trope. But the message was still the same for me: Don’t take life for granted.
After I finished the novel, I spent a good 5 minutes cuddled up to my sleeping husband, breathing in his scent, relishing the fact that I can be closer to him than 6 feet apart. My heart aches for Will and Stella, the two fictional characters, doomed to be six feet (or five feet, as Stella has decided to steal one foot back) apart forever. I desperately wish they could share a kiss with the person they love so they can realize how amazing it feels. I wish they could experience the joyful, yet awkward, intimacy of their first time together. I wish they could hug each other, because there is no better feeling that being wrapped in the arms of someone who makes you feel safe in a world full of chaos.
The novel may have been the next cog in the predictable YA machine, but it made me snuggle a little closer to the man I love.
kianamaiart
izzy806
andulkaphoto
annaxmalina
baratheonpilled
discoholicmusic