Čakam. Še vedno ali že spet? Ne vem več.
I think I got left behind somewhere. As it seems, most people don't have patience for hopeless romantics. I don't belong in this era, because there's far too few of us, and finding each other has never been easy. The worst kind of people, I've found, are those who have no real problems to speak of. Those more often than none, simply make them up. A disease, a disorder, a lack of selfesteem, it makes them feel special, and above all alive. Sometimes I envy their determination. It takes a lot of effort to convince yourself of something which never was and never will be. I envy them, because at any given moment they can decide to stop pretending, and just be normal. How I wish I had that luxury. I'm ashamed to admit how fast I would take the opportunity; how quickly I would accept that life, that love. She once told me that happiness is for the ordinary. Perhaps one day, I can prove her wrong.
