Good friends

There was a slight difference in the way he handled queries about their relationship compared to how she did it. Slight difference, mind you.
Her: I love him. He loves me. Period.
Him: We are “good friends”. Period.
She wasn’t a slave to the world’s perception about them; she made herself vulnerable and wasn’t ashamed of what they had. It is, indeed, a pity that he would never experience that kind of madness.
Sadly, in the end, the fake worldly honor mattered much more.

A mask

And there she was. Crushed, cursed, devastated. She had thought that she had finally met a match, a mirror, a man who would outrival her courage… but she hadn’t…

It was a mask yet again.

It was a spineless wimp yet again.

It was a love of convenience yet again.

Feel

I will never know for sure if music eases or aggravates a lover’s pain. It is difficult, almost impossible, to define the function of music; but an existence without it seems preposterous… it satisfies a primal need to feel, to feel till you bleed out all those emotions… and then feel some more.