It was you who said, it was you who persuaded, those promises, you guaranteed that I could trust in you. And without fear or doubt my heart opened up to you, certain that your promises will stick as top bond. I am to blame, I am at fault, I made you my religion while you played the part. My crime was my all, how you had it on silver platter. What was wrong in having hopes, isn't that what normal people do. How come I pay a bitter price for that.
The choice I made hurt me the most. A wise woman once told me that the higher the hope the deeper the pain on event of disappointment. Honestly, I let my youthful intelligence get in the way. How regretful I feel now, how pained can I become.
It is just my luck I presume. The bitter sting of karma is indeed full of taste. I lament the more because a river flows within me, I choke the more I try to express it. It is better I lament in my thoughts.
Over for us isn't over for me. A bad egg you were and I understand. You are my challenges, you are not a boy. My reader feels you are a boy but you are just ugly situations including a boy.
I have learnt not to be expectant no matter how promising the start may look like. When I put effort, I reject expectation.
The hurt is too great to bear, and I am only so strong.
