Hating Love
Nothing Means More

I mourn the loss of the love that has so far settled in the heart until now pierced into the chest.

I apologize for the mistake I made to you and beg to forgive all the shortcomings of myself that have been settled because of the feeling that is currently hurting me.

Thank you for stopping in my heart, in the future I hope you are better than ever and treat her better than you treat me when you are with you.

I'm quite self-conscious.

I am not as beautiful as her.

I'm not as good as him but one of the things I'm good at is always wanting to be a good listener and always trying to be better.

As much as possible do not break the rules and always obey them, carrying out what is already an obligation to do.

I never go overboard in anything but when I get hurt everything is exaggerated.

I always wanted to be the best and was reluctant compared to the others.

I know I'm selfish but I'm sure no one will be able to be me. Although it looks fine but in fact not as good as it looks.

If this is life in a novel or a comic book maybe I'm the main character of a woman who has been heartbroken and there may be some inner damage that turns her psychology even more horrible.

I may be the female lead but in fact I'm just a replacement for someone who's gone.

I don't know if I'm the main character no one knows but the Creator, whereas I'm just an actress who runs all her screenplays without changing the storyline and making it more interesting and erotic.

I'm not interested in anything but the dream-like happiness of my life.

I don't know why but I often feel hurt and ignored. Sometimes I think it might just be my feeling but I also deny it because it happens too often.

Often unexpectedly I want things I shouldn't want.

Not infrequently I think to tear it into pieces in order to eliminate the painful feelings that become obstacles for myself.

I don't know if I'm cruel like this too because of the attitude and environment they gave me so what's wrong if it's a little messing around with what they call life.

Tired, tired I will be a memory on my trip this time. Maybe now is the time to return everything to the Creator so that he can arrange the best for me.

I got him so why would I bother with these worldly-smelling things?

I just need to hold on a little longer so that I can meet him anywhere later because the reason my existence all along is that he is nothing else.

This longing is no longer just a word that can be expressed in words, not even with tears or even a happy smile.

This is all like a vacuum that blows itself when it loses something that is considered valuable.

Akh... It's meaningless to stay here. It is time to leave everything to the Creator.

Good morning waiter of my heart may you always remember me even though I am no one to you...

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