I don’t want to argue, I don’t even want to fight. I suffer constant torment, not by those around me but by the horrible prison that is my own mind. The pain I feel is worse than any I could ever imagine and yet no one knows it but me. But I need someone to know, I need someone to understand. I know I should not have to endure this pain any longer, not alone. But not death, I don’t want to die; taking ones own life is a terrible sin, and on top of that it’s a crazy thought that an intelligent person could take their own life. What reasonable person would want to end the very existence that gives them such pleasures as knowledge and emotion? And I know they’ve heard It a hundred times before, the demeaning statement that you have so much to live for, a statement used only to give you a perspective on other people who have it worse. But in the end that idea that is meant to give reassurance of life only reassures the fact of how little it matters, because we can never see through another persons eyes, nor understand another persons perspective, we can never truly understand because we are incapable of doing so without adding in our on bias’s and opinion’s. So the truth of the matter is, if some truly has the irrational will to die they will continue to have it no matter what you say so give up on them and try to save the ones who want saving. But don’t give up on me.
For a moment he felt content, secure, happy even but then it struck him, the horrible agony. He had been alone for so long without her that when she began to notice him he was almost instantly happy. He thought the pain had gone, the cruel master that ruled and enslaved him for so long, finally he was free of it, finally he could just live. But he should have known that such foolish ideas, such delusions of granger should never be believed, ideas like these should never have become his hopes and dreams. He should have foreseen his own destruction. And he would have if not for the blinding mist and fog that love creates. A blanket of hope is what had deceived him; hope that he would have his greatest desires fulfilled.
Her face that had made him happy now only gave him woe, a face like hers that mimicked that of Helen able to sail a thousand ships, but also her passion, like fire able to scorch the very world in which lived and cherished; able dry the vast oceans of temptation that filled his subconscious. It was she that made him once so happy but now left him only with bitter agony.
Before you, I had nothing. Nothing but the life that left me so unfulfilled. A life that just barely kept me content. How is it that one person can reassure hope in your life? How is it that one letter written from far away can give meaning to the meaningless? These questions I ask are not really questions, but instead curiosities. Thoughts that fade in and out of a troubled mind searching for a purpose, only to realize there is none. So tell me, how can one change in life reverse all of the doubt and lack of meaning? I ask you this not because I need a second opinion, but because I have not the first. Because I need closure and if there’s anyone to give it to me, its you. The unforgotten words that lay just so, on the canvas of emotion. Joy Pain Fear Anger Hatred Love Lust Desire Woe… Hope. Of all the emotions, one stands clear in diversity. And that one is hope. I have not lost it and I beg you to hold on for as long as possible because there are a lot of bumps in the road and if there’s one thing you need its hope.
You see her and you wonder why. You see her voluptuous curves, sexy smile, and piercing eyes, she radiates sheer confidence. Her cleverness and conviction in everything she does. She makes you want to be the guy for her. She makes you live life to the fullest. And that smile, keeps you smiling. She loves hard, plays hard, keeps you hard. She makes you test your limits, makes you go too far, makes you cross the line. Makes you do things you wouldn’t, like fight for her, die for her, go to a party at 9:30 and not go home at all. And best of all she makes you love doing it. Because of her you love hard, play hard, stay hard. She’s the woman, your woman. And now you can’t live without her. Because you love the person you’ve become, and you’ll never go back. NEVER.
Don’t write me, because I won’t write back. Don’t love me because I won’t love you back. Don’t even try, because I assure you I won’t. And I’m not trying to be mean or nasty, but I must draw the line. For you are one of those women, a backstabber, a deceiver, a cut-throat go getter. Now I’ve told you once, I’ve told you twice, don’t try my patience. Because I love her, with whole heart, till my dying day, for all time. And if you dare sink in your putrid claws, I will destroy you completely, in all forms of the word. You will be so useless no one will want you in 38 states. So think before you act, don’t ease my hand.
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