Читать книгу Unspoken words онлайн
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She was still in her eternal doubts about my words as she wasn’t ready to heal, sometimes I even found that we kind of enjoyed being misery guts, it was our part of life. She said that it was hard for her to reveal her rigours on me and that she was cried her eyes out reading my message.
“Hey, crying isn’t that bad, it shows that we are still possessed by some emotions, that there is life inside us which is trying to find a way out. It is not negative in that case, it is intrinsic state and if it is hold tight in captivity for so long it will eventually explode, and as for me it would be easier to know about this state, rather than you are going to fake. Honest perceptions are better than dissimulation which will cork you even tight. It will be hard work for us but we must try it out.” I didn’t give up on us.
Notwithstanding that she was giving in, talking about all the traitors and severities in her life. Eventually, I collapsed and piped my eyes as well remembering how I was left out when my grandfather had passed away. I was in hospital at that time being ill with anorexia, I will tell you my issues with food later, my dear reader. Everyone who I considered my friends didn’t even bother to visit me and I had no desire to tell anyone about my feelings as it was a waste of time. People would say that I lamented too much and then just kicked out you from their lives like a piece of trash. After I had a person in my life who I trusted in the way I could give up myself. I disclosed every aspect and emotional experience of life to him. I thought this was it, finally I had someone who could accept me as I was, wherethrough he had experienced even more life shit than I. I esteemed him to be my life savior inasmuch as he stabbed me in the back because of nothing. Every day I was lying to myself that I let the past go but it wasn’t true. Every time I was trying to find something in an effort to kill the pain, but then comprehended that it was still there and I didn’t have enough guts to turn the page, to close the book and start reading a new one. People let me go as I had never existed in their thread of life, as I had been just an object which became too old or uninteresting. I just wanted a friend. That was another example of fit of my profound attachment to people. In the end of my jeremiads I added that I wanted to cry with her, this was the only way.