Everything was real Sadness, pain, joy and happiness intertwined in a knot that only you managed to untie. I continued to push and unknowingly entangle new and new knots, in the end they turned into terrible cobwebs. Then you get tired. He looked around and saw the random nets indiscriminately. He looked around and saw the light piercing the small holes with its bundles of glowing swords, and he ran to it, ran, and fled from the memory. I tried to stop you, but you shouldn't. Some birds are too bright to be caged. I had to release you, let go of your white hand. I lost you now. Everything matters to me and nothing can excite me. The beginning of the day is as far away as the end. I lost my precious and now I'm on my knees in the mud, drowning in cheap whiskey and no mental sex, from which I come out with hurt feelings and rebellion of all the senses known to the hangover, collapsed human .... I try to climb the ladder, but only reach the third step and jump back into the shit of insidious and hypocritical feelings, vomited by human prejudices by people over the centuries. When I touch your face, I fall prey to the illusion of the impossible. To the illusion that perhaps man has a reason and how to change himself, that there is a U-turn for the sinner on his way to Hell.
Illusions drive people crazy. They are sent from the rise of the spirit to the fall of the body, from success to failure, from truth to good news that never comes. They change their moods just like good music. However, life is not a song, it does not close in on an illusion. His kingdom is everlasting, spacious, full of imagination and passion, to the north bordering on madness, to the east with the burning love of two. Everything and nothing because of something that is not even in our hands. I will not change, I will remain forever lonely and melancholic when I am alone. I will be myself during the night, I will hide behind her shadow. During the day I will leave the house and myself, outside. I will pretend that everything is fine, that another's death is not my death, I will close my eyes when I see the pain of the old man in them, I will not lend a hand to the fallen, I will not inspire the child who lost his first dream. I will die for myself ... I made a mistake that could cost your happiness, deceived by the chest and the charm of our non-existent future, I thought, I thought that we could be two melancholy crazy in the night and that this would end of problems, of the day, of love and my own. Apologies have lost weight, the words are over, there is nothing left to say. I receive forgiveness from you, but I do not even dare to ask from myself. We all end behind the ship "Life". I hope only for another good swim, for a touch of pure and unadulterated beauty, hidden behind the slippery stones of the clear pool, behind the noise of the falling autumn leaves, behind your smile showing the way to Paradise, my dear. Everything was real, like life and death, like nothing else in the world...
Answers 10
Once you shit, men become amazing romantics and writers. Thanks. How much easier it is to be in shit than to stand up and keep growing up. Bad
Bad - I can't say anything better than what you wrote, and my ex-boyfriend is like that right now. When you do not want to sink with someone because of his mistakes, it is better to continue alone, but it is bad when he himself does not see his mistakes.
Call her quickly and as long as you are alone! She can love you and she can be sad, darling!
Male, male .. What a drama because of a female animal. Where there are at least 3 and a half billion of them on earth. Can you imagine suffering so much for everyone? It won't take you a few quintillion years.
Beautiful and sad ... There is a lot of sensuality in what you wrote as an author. Mature and real. I managed to find myself in the letter as I read it, I was in a similar situation where I pursued something unreal and impossible for years, until I finally got tired and gave up. I tell myself there is a reason for everything, destiny knows its job, but sometimes I wonder if I hadn't given up, what would have happened? !? You managed to excite me. Don't pay attention to the above comments, your letter is very nice and it is obvious that you have poured out your soul! When we make mistakes we have to learn from them, and you succeeded, well done!
Look, don't be so sad! Go out with friends and give yourself a chance - either call her (such strong feelings can't help but share, maybe she's just tired of waiting for you to decide something), or give her a chance for a new love! But don't stop feeling! Pain means you have a soul. Do you know how many people don't have it? !! This means that you are rich - do not give up your soul. As much as it hurts, it's worth feeling. Success!
You are a terrible brother of cruel writing you describe the pain that people who love feel. Hector
Bad, enough with the female malice ... Why don't you talk about people in general, but immediately divide them into men and women and qualify one. Are only men orphaned? !? Are we the only ones making mistakes? I'm tired of listening, "Men are rubbish!" Yes, I'm already cold and I don't crack the basma. Sometimes I hurt without being touched. I became numb after going through 2 women who played with me. Decent men fall for bitches and become garbage. Decent girls fall into the trash and become bitches. The wheel of hatred turns. Everyone returns to people of the opposite sex, although they did not specifically hurt him. You have to be strong to go on and open your heart again, without hatred in it. I can not. This is what an author should do. You keep going. It doesn't matter if you're wrong (in this case, I guess). The past cannot be changed. And to roar now and not to roar, all this. M24
You know, I don't think you can get out of this until you talk to her and explain everything to her - from your point of view. You don't even have to talk - you just talk to free yourself, to pour out your heart. Only then will you be able to pull forward. If it really was real, she will understand you and forgive you - again - and even if it is too late for you (you don't know, you will understand), you will see that you will feel better. If it was real, you won't regret it. Do it!
Come on, come on, infidelity hurts - both sides. Then nothing is the same, there is no going back. That's what my mother called him - who shit in my pants !? Well, if you shit - you will clean, and it was at the cost of whining beautiful words, thrown a meaningless mess. When you burn the pot - you either itch it or throw it away and be careful not to burn it anymore. Time heals. The power of the present. Tole. Do what you have to do, do what you want. And to those - mostly women, who are excited by such "sensuality" of the author, I can say that such good families have destroyed and thrown their children into the hell of a "family of divorced parents" with the same insensitivity. , with which they eagerly shout empty words. Well, take responsibility for your own actions, sir, not to roar at us here and explain to us about "slippery stones" and "falling autumn leaves," as if someone else is to blame. His life was to blame! Get well, you're not small! PS Hey, I scored!