Promissum
The trouble with wanting something is the fear of losing it, or never getting it. The thought makes you weak.I would have laughed, if I could have remembered how.
They were all dead. The final gunshot was an exclamation mark to everything that had led to this point. I released my finger from the trigger. And then it was over.
Just when you thought you had reached the deepest depths of horror, it suddenly got worse. How to turn off that small voice inside your head that started to whisper that you should be glad... that now, if not before, your revenge was justifiable on any conceivable moral scale. That small voice proved, beyond any doubt, that I was damned. Mine wasn't the most original approach to the problem: An eye for an eye, the oldest principle of revenge. Old as dirt, but still going strong.
I didn't deserve to walk away. There are no happy endings. All this time we got the fable of Sleeping Beauty wrong. The prince didn't kiss her to wake her up. No one who slept for a hundred years is likely to wake up. It was the other way round. He kisses her to wake himself up from the nightmare that has brought him there.
Death is inevitable. Our fear of it makes us play safe, blocks out emotion. It's a losing game. Without passion you are already dead.
You can't hide from your past. You'll end up running in circles. The past is a puzzle, like a broken mirror. As you piece it together, you cut yourself, your image keeps shifting. And you change with it. It could destroy you, drive you mad. It could set you free. There are things in life you cannot choose. How you feel. The past is a gaping hole. You try to run from it, but the more you run, the deeper it grows behind you, its edges yawning at your heels. Your only chance is to turn around and face it. But it's like looking down into the grave of your love, or kissing the mouth of a gun, a bullet trembling in its dark nest, ready to blow your head off.
This is love. When someone drags you from the wreckage when you have given in, ready to just lie there and die. This is love. When someone, no matter what the cost, shows you there is hope, a choice, that you can put down your gun. This is love. Love hurts.
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keep your account safe ha? ^^
you still love her...
if not, why the heck are you stalking her?
the people around you are not stupid.
you know that..
peace
pls feel free to delete this..