A defeated heart
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Among these beating hearts around me, I find no heart that grieves for my sorrow, nor among these eyes looking at me, an eye that weeps for my tears.
I weep for myself and for what I have done to myself and my heart. I am no longer myself and my heart is no longer my heart. It is as if I have been completely stripped of myself and have become a person I do not know.
I open the window to let out that pain between us bitter like burnt coffee, sharp like the breath I never learned to breathe without you.
Where do people find the strength to endure such excruciating suffering? They get used to it.
Even if I were to meet you a thousand years from now, and fate were to bring us together, I would look at you with the gaze of a disgusted, pitying person, a gaze of hatred that holds no forgiveness, reconciliation, or pardon.
I am someone who has stumbled and risen, bent and straightened, collapsed and grown stronger, and now knows my limits with life and people: When to confront, when to withdraw, and when never to look back.
The most important thing I learned about communication skills is how to end a conversation.
Try to be more silent. The value of words is so great that sometimes a single word at the wrong time can destroy an entire circle of people.
Only through love does a person live more than the life of another person, nature becomes more than it is, and everything increases in the lover’s sense because he is provision for his beloved.
