Lessons

My begging doesn't matter anymore. Neither do my tears. I should have learned by now how to break silently. But do you ever learn? Instead I've spent the recent years hoping I would never break again. I've been blind. I've been way too optimistic. I have wanted love and yet I've forgotten that the world I live in is not powered by love. So this shouldn't be a surprise. And in a way it is not. I have relied on the fact that you are stupid enough to be so in love with me. But you grew up. You became smarter. You know better now than to be in love with a wretch. And I should have known better than to hope for a life with you. Again I was certain. I was sure. And again it led me nowhere. Maybe one day I will stop believing in this nonsense. Maybe this day is coming closer. Maybe the holes in my heart will finally teach me. I hope they do. After all even a doormat worns out at some point.

Yet there is a cry in me that I cannot supress...

Don't give up on me yet.

Chocolate

I am chocolate, I've learned.
You might like it, you might even love it...
It's delicious, amazing.

But too much of it and you get sick.
Too much and it leaves a bad taste in your mouth.
Too much and you have no other choice but to spit it out.

I am chocolate.

...

Реже като нож. Остър нож. Безмилостно и на парчета. Всички мои викове остават нечути. И нищо не остава от мен. Всичко е разкъсано.

Или като куршум. Пронизва право през сърцето. Точно там където най-боли. И оставам без дъх, без пулс.


Безразличие. Убива ме тихо.

22

You left with your working clothes and came back in a coffin.
I didn't know you. Now I never will. Maybe I have seen your face before but now I won't.
And just like that, in a blink of an eye... And you were no more.
And the earth did not stop spinning. The rivers didn't stop flowing and the trees didn't stop growing. Nothing changed. People kept laughing. The sky did not darken and the moon did not turn red. It was all the same. As if it didn't matter... As if you didn't matter.

But you did.


And He cried.

Small talk

If I can't tell you that I love you and miss you...
If I can't tell you how sorry I am for betraying you...
If I can't tell you that I can't get you out of my head and my heart...
If I can't tell you that I tried to let go of you and forget you but I failed greatly...
If I can't tell you that I don't want to live a single minute without knowing that even though you might be somewhere else, you belong to me, and I to you...
If I can't tell you that you mean the world and more...
If I can't tell you that I worry and think about you all day...
If I can't tell you that I still dream of you and me...

If I can't tell you that I believe YOU are the one for me...

Then what is it that I can say...

Two of you

I see the battle in you. As if two sides of you are fighting and you're not yet sure which side should win. One foot is in, but still one remains out. I am sorry for this battle in your mind and probably heart. I would help you if I knew how, I really would. But I fear my hands are tied. Nothing is in my power. I can only give you space to change as much as you want to. I wish I could tell you what to do, but I really don't want to influence your decisions concerning that. I want you to make up your mind yourself. That way you'll be convinced that no one has given you a bad advice and you're doing the right thing, or the worst case scenario - there would be no one else to blame.
I wish I could at least tell you what I think but I myself am not objective and impartial on this matter.
I will patiently wait. I hope.
And no matter what you decide, no matter what happens I believe that God always does things that in the end work out for our own good. And I will learn to be content in every state I'm in.

Choose wisely.

Why I love you...

Mr. Smith: Why, Mr. Anderson? Why do you do it? Why get up? Why keep fighting? Do you believe you're fighting for something? For more than your survival? Can you tell me what it is? Do you even know? Is it freedom? Or truth? Perhaps peace? Could it be for love? Illusions, Mr. Anderson. Vagaries of perception. The temporary constructs of a feeble human intellect trying desperately to justify an existence that is without meaning or purpose. And all of them as artificial as the Matrix itself. Although, only a human mind could invent something as insipid as love. You must be able to see it, Mr. Anderson. You must know it by now. You can't win. It's pointless to keep fighting. Why, Mr. Anderson, Why? Why do you persist?





Neo: Because I choose to.