Tuesday, June 1, 2010

Cancer In The Knuckle




I I have often indulged in imagining what would have been living with her. Lost in my thoughts, I saw a vague future paths crossed destiny. But the reality was quite different, this day, half-word, she confessed her sin. Therefore, a new path opened to me, cradled by nostalgic regret, an honor trampled, an anger of love. Never seemed to me a being as far and as necessary. Obsession. Nightmare. Denial. I was going crazy. A portion of a soul that is torn in a cry Heavenly inaudible and yet so strong. A broken heart. A life to advance. A promise not kept.

life. Ray of sunshine in rainy day, a man who rebuilds never a pretty sight. If he seems to find a youth, a taste for life, it's never a facade. Then I met other people, I destroyed other hopes. I shared my anger, always the victim of a passion seamless, simple and tinged with hate. This type of injury never closes.
Un ange passe, old adage. Comes a woman, perfect for me. A huge heart, strong character, a mischievous smile and a twinkle in her eye. And basically sincere. A half for the injured man, what he sought. I found the urge. Life.

The simple pleasures is what brings joy. Some brief rants will not because of us, a couple advance together. Events, trips, projects I let myself wear across Europe over our desires, we became the "I and my injuries were fading. I tuned out, developing new interests, and it was my account. Few keystrokes overcame me, the white glow of the screen, sharing made me the man I am today. I am somebody.


Finally, today, where a few letters typed on the same screen reminded me to his memory. The woman who broke my, the ghost of my nights, the shadow of myself, reappeared. Beating heart, a few words exchanged, and a head full of questions. What happened to it? Has it forgotten? Or is it that these exchanges could be undertaken, while our lives are built around other people? And most importantly, what happened? The pain is reborn. Full of regret, nostalgia, hate and love, indescribable feelings that lead me to nowhere. Lost, I am. At that time I return to my past, I'm looking to the future. I met with appeasement my mind. What should I do? Turn the page? Forgive? Surely the most difficult of my life.

autobiographical narrative. I asked for advice, there.

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