Is it truly better to have loved and lost rather than to not have loved at all? What kind of happiness can ever justify the crippling pain that follows a lost love? Pain that absolutely and entirely eclipses light making a bright sky into the darkest of nights. How can one reconcile with an eternity of a possiblity lost before it ever started? Tell me the rationalization of this heartbreak for I do not understand. It is a hard thing to be filled with a hope when its obvious fate is to be shattered
Dedicated to the love that never was and never shall be.
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