A Tale of Love Lost

Rosie has been asked so often about her sotries that she has finally decided to tell everyone the story behind her books about her youth and childhood. She is only 22 but in that time she has gained wisdom beyond her years. Love and loss form the background to what she hopes will be a lasting relationship.


1. The Early Years

(I know i have written this in first person and in a diary like style but this is all complete fiction)

Life; life is made up of love and loss, everyone will feel these emotions at some point for some it will be stronger than it will be for others and for some it will seem like a battle with no end. I have loved people, I have lost people, I have been jubilant, I have been melancholy but for me that is part of the path that makes up life. Many people have asked me what my tale is so I will write it down and I hope that whoever reads it may discern from it some grain of inspiration or ray of hope for there is always an end to the darkness.


My name is Rose, I’m not really sure were to begin my tale for I am not certain where the start is, so I will just tell you a bit about myself first. I have always been told I am pretty but I have never really believed it, I never dated because I couldn’t understand why the guys could possibly like me so I chose to disbelieve what they told me, I am tall and I have a pear shaped figure that I always despised, I always wanted an hourglass figure I mean that’s what all the attractive girls have right? As a teenager my skin was always prone to acting up and getting spots which for me just made everything worse. My hair went from natural blonde to natural mousey brown to dyed blond and then red.


I lived in High Wycombe for a short part of my life and there is probably where I have my fondest memories, before life made me cynical of the world and I became a closed book impossible for even myself to read. I was miss popularity I was friends with all the girls and I was the leader but I was also friends with all the guys and if I had stayed there I would probably have ended up dating all of them at some point. However there is one boy to whom I gave my young heart a boy named by Ryan, we used to sit on the carpet during circle time he would sit next to me we would hold hands and he would give me little gift boxes and in each one was a ring. This was the start of my introduction into love and loss. As young as I was at the time I think I realised that I liked him more than the others. It can’t really be called love for a heart that young doesn’t know what love is, but I think that if we had been granted the luxury of time it might have become love.

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