To the schizophrenic woman who thanked me for chasing away the man attacking you, did you know I’m no better than him? If you knew the meaning behind the branding on my hand, maybe you’d be better off running away from me as well. In fact, I’m probably worse of a person than he, considering I hurt the one I loved the most. When I looked into your eyes, I saw the same look of fear and panic I saw in her eyes. The look haunts me. And after all your babbling, I only offered you ‘sorry I can’t help you’. Maybe I did all that to prove to myself I’m not a bad person. Truth be told, I’m as evil as they come. To you, my lost love, I pray every day –yes I pray now– for your safety and happiness. A few days ago, I found myself on the temple steps in tears. The rising prayers chilled me to my bones because I finally surrendered. There is nothing I can do to bring you back to me. So I prayed for your safety, happiness, and that you reach all your goals. I was a fucking mess that day. It’s a little funny now to be honest –how utterly pathetic I must have appeared to the passersbys. Who cares though. I’m trying to find my patience. There’s a song that brings me peace and hope: Lumineers Holding Out. It’s from the movie Storks, which I want to watch now! I don’t know, maybe it’s just delusional hope. Maybe it’s faith. I really don’t know lately.

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alanwrites

I'm writing a novel, but this is for my other projects. Thanks for reading!

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