Drafts of a broken heart.
1. Loving her is the pain of my heart.
And the pain of my mind.
She’s my curse.
The best thing that happened in my life.
Also the worst.
I wish myself to never see her again.
And I curse myself to never see her again.
Until death do me apart.
For now, even the love stories I read leave a bad taste on my tongue.
It’s exhausted. To fall deeply in sorrow and hatred for such a long-time wound. I should get used to it since years ago.
I told her, “you can’t open a bleeding wound for a try then say opps sorry not my cup of tea and leave.”
Even I myself get surprised at how badly I failed this time.
Hey myself, I wonder if things had been wrong since the very first beginning, 9 years ago.
3. The old piece.
— “thôi đừng nói chuyện yêu đương
anh tỉnh giấc nằm nhìn em ngủ
hình như thế cũng là quá đủ
ngoài trời gió rét căm căm”
– the moment you hold someone in your arms, knowing you never ever feel this happy in your whole life.
and then the person pour ice water on you. Cold from head to toes.
Then you may wonder, how long it takes for your hopeless heart to learn the lesson.
But may it be, never, since, “if this is wrong then I don’t want to do the right thing”, you murmur to yourself.
(02.20.15 – at the airport)
now I learnt
the bitter way.