She is a Character of Fiction

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If somebody decides they do not want to be with you, you are left facing two options. ONE: You can chase them. The consequence of this being either that they a) Finally understand the depth of your feelings for them and you 'get the guy', as it were or b) They feel that you are slightly obsessive and that you do not understand the meaning of the 'killer word', leave - further decreasing any chance of becoming a part of their life.

... And just as exciting as this option is, TWO: Accepting their decision and moving on. By taking this road they can then assume that either you are mature enough to accept defeat and accept that despite your pain you have strength enough to continue with your journey through the depths of Hell, whilst respecting their wishes... Or they will simply feel that you never really cared if you can disappear out of their life as quickly (or slowly) as you entered it. You are therefore not worth their time. You never really loved them. If you cared enough you would never have let them go, and so on. And so forth.

Lovely predicament. The face of the fear and strangling sensation of love.

So. I walk towards the mirror first. That is where we begin is it not? Self hate. A doubt begins to drown me. I am floating on the surface of the water and I know that my last breath is about to consume my soul. I look back at the person staring at me. She has another world acting parts inside her play, taking place within her eyes. I consider how she feels. She has knowledge of a truth yet considers it a mis-judgement. She wonders now how she ever felt she had a chance with such a handsome figure of a man. For a minute then, she knows why he left. She cries then at her stupidity. She cries then, for crying at her stupidity.

I consider bombarding him with messages. To show him how he does not leave my mind of course. Then re-consider when I remember that he does not want me. I should let him go. Not cling onto a 'last-resort-you'll-do' kind of situation. It knocks the confidence of the soul in fact. It sends a thousand spears through the empty heart. To love and for love not to be received, well, I either appear an idiot, or I appear, as I hope, to not give up on something I feel is deeper than my heart could desire.

The picture is blurry. The haze is making her reflection disorientated.

I search for the middle level then, shallow-deep-painful-happy-enchantment level of peace, so you know that I am there. Thinking of you. If you so chose to acknowledge it. Even the mind is an idiot in love, but waves always come my darling, and I cannot ignore them forever.

One day they will drown me.

Life is too short to let you go, yet too long to chose a dream one way received.

When the sun shines I will think of you. Furthermore between the times of snow and rain. Do not be blind enough to accept anything other. You know me, as I know you.

Boneata Bell
- 14.03.2013
- 19.


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