I don't know if fate was being kind when it crossed our paths or was playing a cruel game when it crossed our paths in a way they never cross.

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My strangled heart will breathe again.
The day i get over you, i will not spend my days thinking about meeting you.
The day I get over you, i will be able to listen to songs without creating cute scenarios in my head.
The day i get over you, i will not feel the need to talk to you.
The day i get over you, i will not drown in your deep, big eyes or lose myself in your hair.
The day i get over you, i will finally be able to say that I am over love.

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1. I have the most horrible timing for everything.
2. If love is sheer dumb luck, i am the unluckiest guy ever.

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That if too heavy, it will smother you with it's closeness and burn you with the heat of passion. If it's too light, it will not protect you from the harsh and cold environment of the cruel world and will make you want more. There's no guide to what must be it's weight, it's all upto you.

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Once again, I picked my pen up to write about you. As soon as I placed my pen on the page, an immeasurable force stopped my hand. My heart was full and my mind was full question.
What can I write to you or about you that I have not written before? What more can I write that you will understand? What words can I use that you will finally feel them? How can I spill my heart in a way that you can see it? Word have failed me here, or maybe I failed them.
No. Today I won't write anything. Today, I'll let my hand rest, my heart breathe and my mind calm down. Today, I will do what I do everyday - pretend to be happy and satisfied. Some other day, I'll write about you again. Maybe.

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You try to cast away your pain.




You embrace and work with your pain.

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I will keep everything just the same but change a few things.
I'll keep my heart in my chest and not show it to you.
I will not drown in the sea of your untouchable love.
I will not sip your tea of affection from your cup of promises.
I will just be your friend and I will keep myself from losing again.

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I have not read even a quarter of you. You say you are an open book, but you hide yourself. What I know will never be enough and what I want to know, you don't allow me to.
Although you are an open book, I can't understand your language. I can't understand what you want me to know and what you want to hide.
Although you are an open book, you are more secretive than the best kept secret.

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Nothing and no-one.

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That flows in a single direction. Time is a river that flows constantly to the future but carries the memories of past, for the memories pave the way to the future. The past was once it's future and the future soon will be it's past. Present is all it has. Present is all we have. Be the river of time, keep memories, let present unfold your past.

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