|—||White Oleander by Janet Fitch (via lostinthesounds)|
I cannot put into words how glad I am that I told you. It would have been something I regretted not doing to the day I died. No matter how everything works out, I am glad that I told you. Even if you don’t believe it, if one day you do, or if you never do, or even if I have the pleasure of spending the rest of my life proving it to you, at least I told you.
I love you.
Tomorrow I’ll go to the dentist, hurry as hell to drive with a friend of mine to the one I have a crush on since… over a year I guess. For some reason I feel the need of eventually doing something about my situation since there won’t be many chances left.
Anyhow at the beginning I’m going to ask him if I could talk to him afterwards because I have some problem. Then, after all, my friend will leave for some reason so that I’ll be standing with him like a complete moron, stumbeling around and hoping to not blush like tomato.
And the end? I bet with all of you that I am going to get refused and won’t be able to talk to him in a normal way ever again. But don’t worry my eyes are dry so I don’t have enough tears to cry.
So, tomorrow my heart will get broken. Chances are at least 98:0. Yippiyeah.
Should I mention that I never told anyone I have feelings for him without being forced to?
Oh my… Prepare yourself for some heartbroken posts within the next week.
You may talk me out of it… perhaps I’ll listen but I don’t know…
May you please have the kindness to explain to me why the hell I wasted so many hours of my life for you?
|—||― Janet Fitch, White Oleander (via joellybelly)|
|—||Grey’s Anatomy (via anditslove)|
Like the end of the world. Absolutely comperable to this situation. This empty feeling. Full of regret. This anger. There is you and there is life. And somehow fate does not work. I’m mad, and sad and I hate it that it rhymes. I just want to cry but I don’t have enough tears for this. I can’t even wear contacts. I hate him.
None of my friends care about this. They didn’t take my feelings serious in the first place, why should they now? They believe to have reasons for this, that because of the circumstances it must be impossible for me to love him. But what other name should I call a feeling like this?
And now? It is over. So over. Not more than yesterday or a month ago or a year. But it is over. And I feel it. I’d like to get drunk tonight or cry or have something, anything to get rid of this feeling of pure emptiness. And some undescribeable mix of emotions who grow into a monster of torture. I’m not ready to let go. Just not ready. You became my hope and dream. The one who hurts me so easily. With a word or a gesture. Or more: with treating me as if I was not more than air.
This is a bad day. -4/23
oh my god the tears :((
basicly what I always keep in mind…
There is a statement of the band’s singer that he believes that death come as the strongest memory.
It is clear from the placement, clothes and Mother War’s appearence that the patient’s most intense memory must be the one of the war he was in. Of course he also remembers the marching band he saw with his father as a young boy but the bad experiences he made in war turned even the happier memories into darker ones.
The Patient dies surrounded by emotionless nurses and an useless doctor and is after the Black Parade leaves alone again. [“sometimes I think I’ll die alone” (Cubicles)].
His heaviest feelings are Fear and Regret. They stay by the Patient’s side as long as he is dying but leave after he got the medal, or better said: after he is completely introduced into the afterlife.