I must confess that I've loved more when I've been less reciprocated, that I belonged to those who could walk their path hand in hand with a love greater than the universe itself, that cooking for her was the most gratifying experience of what remains of my life, that I miss her a bit more now that she's gone, and at the same time, I wouldn't go back in time to where there's nothing left to see in that sky
I lost everything at once, and when I had more than enough, it wasn't the happiness it was said to be. I have felt lonely, although many people would bet on me as one of their dearest friends. Everything I lacked was right in front of me, and I didn't know how to take it.
It's so difficult to admit that I prefer sadness to joy, that I find a more human connection in misfortune than in happiness and in secret, I've always wanted to leave this town. I experienced such spirituality that I couldn't sustain for an eternity. There is no one I find more beautiful than my mother, and I've been suffering from an unpleasant discomfort my whole life because of my inability to adore her as she deserves. My father is my hero, and he will continue to know, even if it breaks me in two, that everything I could become is not enough for him. Yet, they both admire and love me, but they have never understood why I've taken the paths I've chosen to walk.
Incredibly, I fell in love again after losing the only love of my life. I failed to appreciate that she has the most beautiful gaze in the world: one that only wants to see me. I have been neglectful in showing her how much I truly love her. I'm miserable, but I am full of love and like most people, I just want to find happiness and peace, but I haven't found a way to be balanced.
I would also like to hear the confession of why they couldn't keep loving me despite me. I wish not to feel guilty or be the executioner and the judge for a darn minute. Even if it was a lie, I just wanted to believe it for an instant and forget my misfortune. To know that destiny has never existed, and it's just my poet's spirit trying to fill life with emotion, but life follows so many paths, and only a few cross each other. It wasn't God looking into my eyes; it was just me being with you, me hoping to stop romanticizing everything. I keep building bigger and bigger sandcastles, and they keep falling faster because I have no patience left.
I want to be able to look you in the eyes and say that I will fight for you like a madman. I wish to be honest when I do so cause I'm tired of lying and I don't want space for new emotions anymore. I don't want to be completely alone or entirely accompanied, yet life has taken away my desire to give it my all. I don't even know if I have anything left to give I just want to be an example, an example of something, of whatever it may be. I hope they at least want to continue with me when they hear stories of my life from other mouths. I want them to know that in every life, I had the will to be happy and that my way of loving is beautiful, albeit brief. I made someone incredibly happy, and I had to learn to live my life despite myself, always despite myself.