When I think of our past, I don't imagine it as a love story. Brooke Eastham was beautiful, rich, and completely out of my league, but I was okay with that. I knew where I belonged and where my family ranked on the ladder of success. I wasn't looking to disrupt the order, but Cape Cod in the summer held an aura of magic, and every clear image and boundary was blurred by teenage inhibitions. When the fog cleared, we would step back into our rightful places until the magnetic vibrations in our hearts could no longer be ignored, and we would snap back together. The seed of our relationship was planted in the sand along the beach, and the roots grew out to the ocean, only to be swallowed up by the currents before it had a chance to bloom. Our fates were so intricately intertwined, the threads of our futures closely weaving together to make a tapestry of beautiful colors, telling a story of young love, loss, and ultimately, forgiveness....

Everything about me is a sham.I've been living with my own lies for so long, I don't even know who I am. This role I've been playing is becoming boring and the man I'm turning into feels like a stranger.With each deception I dole out, another five are needed to keep the truth hidden, and it's all teetering on a weak foundation.My life is like a house of cards, and the wind blows pretty strong here in Whitsborough, constantly threatening to scatter my fragile facade.With the sudden appearance of someone from my family's past, everything comes into focus, and I'm tempted to exhale the breath I've been holding in my chest.Just to watch those cards land where they may.

I heard he was crazy, that his feelings were all dead.I heard the bad things he did was because of the monster in his head. He likes to deal out pain, reveling in his victims' screams.He likes breaking hearts, ripping them apart at the seams.Everything became better, because he went away.But none of that mattered, since a part of him stayed. Now he's back, looking for what he left behind.They all whisper the same things, about his affliction of the mind.People say he's broken, this man Brody Landry.But I think he's beautiful, a perfect Prince for me

Life can be hard and it can be cruel. Thrusting single mothers into hardships and then leave them to watch as their children struggle, only to fail. I couldn't become that statistic,I needed to push myself beyond my limits, and rip my family out of that mold. Forcing myself to be better, do better, and letting my body take the brunt of those efforts. All I could see was that endzone and what it would mean for my impoverished family.Just when I think I've made it, thinking that all the blood, sweat, and tears were worth it, I'm slapped back into reality. No grass is greener, no matter where you are, and no amount of money makes you a good person.Love is not kind and if it's not conventional, it's disregarded. Secrets born from shame and anger nurtured from hate, blend inside my heart. How can love win when everyone wants it to fail?

What happens when your only source of warmth and light leaves you?The dismal shadows once kept at bay, begin to seep back in and coat everything the light once touched.All feeling becomes saturated in their inky grasp and escape becomes impossible.She left me here in the dark, alone and awaiting the impending destruction.Who do you turn to when you feel all is lost?His presence isn't welcomed, and his anger scorches my insides, but at least he never leaves.Now that I'm truly alone, his claws sink deep and trying to flee would be futile.We are one, him and I.There's nothing I can do but watch the storm clouds roll in.How do I warn them if the warning is me?I can't control him once he has something in his sights, his determination knows no bounds, and his wrath is an addiction I know too well.There's no stopping the lightning if you don't hear the thunder.