miercuri, 16 septembrie 2009
As much as I struggled not to think of him, I did not struggle to forget. I worried – late in the night, when the exhaustion of sleep deprivation broke down my defenses – that it was all slipping away. That my mind was a sieve, and I would someday not be able to remember the precise color of his eyes, the feel of his cool skin, or the texture of his voice.
I could not think of them, but I must remember them.
Because there was just one thing that I had to believe to be able to live –
I had to know that he existed.
That was all. Everything else I could endure.
So long as he existed.
Even more, I had never meant to love him. One thing I truly knew - knew it in the pit of my stomach, in the center of my bones, knew it from the crown of my head to the soles of my feet, knew it deep in my empty chest – was how love gave someone the power to break you...
Well, honestly (and very seriously), I couldn't say it better myself...
Multumesc, Sandruta :-*.
Publicat de Zuzu la 14:03