The sun will set for me...

I give to you my heart - what's left of it anyway. I wish to part ways with it, because it has become too much of a burden. It beats so loudly and with such speed that my chest feels like it's going to explode any minute. Maybe some of us are not meant to own hearts, it may simply not be for everyone. I've tried to tame it. To grasp how it ticks, and how I can make it work for me, not against me, but to no avail. I give it to you, hoping that one day you will return it and I will know exactly what to do. Until then, I bid farewell, and sincerely apologise for the havoc I will reek, but as of now, there is no other way. No other way for me to survive.

You think your pain and your heartbreak are unprecedented in the history of the world. That no one has ever felt as intensely or profoundly as you do in this very moment, but then you read. You come here or you go somewhere else, and you read words written by someone already dead or halfway around the world. You read the inner most thoughts, the inner most pain of someone, and you instantly feel connected, and more importantly not so very alone. It helps, because when pain comes, and it inevitably does, you have to make a choice, and you have to make it now. The damage might be permanent, and there are always going to be scars. But even the angriest scars fade over time until it is difficult to see them written on the skin at all, and the only thing that is still there is the memory of how painful it had been.