The most beautiful love stories that could have been, never were.
I still love you. More and more so everyday.
Entirely alone in its yearning, this heart still remains stubbornly defiant. As if continuing to love you endlessly would bridge this distance between us.
I may not know much, but of this I am certain. On the day I die, you'll be the whisper of my final sigh. The last thing I see when I close my eyes. My final thought as I fade into oblivion.
Never to exist again.
But, what can I do?
I love you, truly, simply and endlessly.
I'd rather have a broken heart than no heart at all.
For once, I'm glad that life is short.
Death would be a gift.
I have no desire to survive this.
How could I live like this forever?
Then again, how could I live otherwise.
The safer road may pay off, but I can't be there and have my soul be elsewhere.
I'll win a lot of peace by letting you go.
But I'll hold on instead.
It is always worth losing, to me.
It is always worth risking.
Real loss only occurs when love you something more than you love yourself.
And I'm willing to lose it all.
In its naivete, the heart misunderstands. The distance between us isn't that of two people, or two ends of the earth.
Rather between what exists, and what no longer does.