Ethan stories

annabelolol I’m new to this and I love writing 🤪💕
Autoplay OFF   •   a year ago
i Didn’t really like birdsong so I decided to search a different enviorment of writing. The dark and sad side and the meaning of life. The stuff that just makes you think. So I decided to write a little short start about a girl and a guy she meets. Enjoy!


There is a boy. I met him online. I’ve been wanting someone to change my life. I’ve been wanting someone to love and to love me. I needed him. I needed Ethan.

He was like something I couldn’t live without. I needed more and more of his love. Do you think it’s upsetting that I’m in love with someone I’ve never met? Tell me if it is.

I feel like he’s here with me every second of the day. When I eat, when I sleep, when I breath in and out. All the time. Everyday.

My mom wanted me to make friends so she put me on this website where I could chat with random people. One day I got a text from a boy. We talked for a little while and I started to like him.

I told my family about him but they seemed confused. They didn’t understand. I didn’t know. what did they not understand about him.

I showed him to them on my phone but they just stared in confusion. I didn’t understand.

After a while I got obsessive. I would sleep with my phone and every three seconds I would be checking my messages to see if he texted. Most of the time he didn’t.

I would cry at night because I would dream of him and wake up and realize he’s not beside me. I wonder why I love him. I’ve never even seen him. But I love him. I do.

I finally was tired from my pain. I told him I wanted to see him. He said okay. We planned to meet at the deli the following morning. He said okay. I waited for hours on hours for him.

He never arrived. I was sure we were at the same place. I was positive. We had FaceTimed. We had called. But not one sign was seen of him being there.

I looked down at my phone to text him and it all hit me at once. His contact wasn’t there. I scrolled and searched for his number and I suddenly couldn’t remember what it was.

I had gone over it so many times but I don’t remember. I don’t remember his hair color, his eyes, or his face. What was it? What was his name? I don’t remember his name.

Maybe I didn’t have all those phone calls. Maybe I didn’t text him a hundred times a day. Maybe my family was right to be confused. Maybe he was never even real at all.

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