By the end you stop asking to be loved back and ask only for the courtesy of an ending, a ciao. Those are two different hurts, and the second one tends to last longer, because the only voice left to argue with is your own.
Words liberate the soul; silence imprisons it and corrodes the spirit.
Thought
Thought
By the end you stop asking to be loved back and ask only for the courtesy of an ending, a ciao. Those are two different hurts, and the second one tends to last longer, because the only voice left to argue with is your own.
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The simplest truth is that we have no power over anyone else.
The most frustrating thing in life is not being able to make the person we love, the person we desire, look at us with the same fervor that burns deep inside us.
The greatest penance is what goes unsaid.
Words liberate the soul; silence imprisons it and corrodes the spirit.
Damn whoever stayed silent, who couldn't even be bothered with just… a ciao.
All I'm left with is to brood and reshape the season, sometimes as a good Samaritan, sometimes as a tormentor, from rejecting this vast orchestra of murmurs for so long.
Not the murmurs of those who stayed silent (from them there was never a sound), but my own: private rages, indignations that keep echoing.
In the end, it was all I needed:
a simple "no" would have been enough.
Thoughts
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Sounds like somebody let this fade out instead of answering, and the not knowing did more damage than any answer could. A no shuts the door. Silence leaves it swinging.
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By the end you stop asking to be loved back and ask only for the courtesy of an ending, a ciao. Those are two different hurts, and the second one tends to last longer, because the only voice left to argue with is your own.
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The greatest truth is that we have no power over anyone else.