Some drugs can heal the scars. Any cure can't heal the pain. I'm bleeding and it's Red.
Yes. Blood is Red. I should have know earlier and better.
I made Red do what I want: push him away while I'm still care of Red. Some says Red was sincere but sorry, I'm not the one who broke the glass first. Wasn't my fault if the scars were remain. It hurts and I think it should be getting better since I'm single ice cream from now on. Somehow I'm so relief though there's a part of me that feel 'lil bit sad cause I let go something I actually love. Something that I actually wants to keep.
But I'm tired. I can't stand it anymore. I'm sorry to myself, I even sorry to Red cause Red won't this happen and Red's hate my decision (or maybe that was only how it looks). It's killing me when I found something strange in his gaze. He's here with me but where is Red? Red's not with me.
But you know what? True love is all the same like Aborigine's traditional weapon. Love just like a bazooka. You pull it away and it backs to you again. It will. I'm searching the truth in myself, truth in my life, truth in every little thing I did. Truth in my love, too. I'm searching for a true love and I won't play any game of love.
Time heals. It should be.
And if it's not work, I guess I have to continue my life with my little pieces of broken heart, but not with regret.
But somehow I believe Red would back again. I just have to wait in unlimited time. One thing I'm sure, it couldn't be so hard. Not as hard as Giraffe's case.
Yes. Blood is Red. I should have know earlier and better.
I made Red do what I want: push him away while I'm still care of Red. Some says Red was sincere but sorry, I'm not the one who broke the glass first. Wasn't my fault if the scars were remain. It hurts and I think it should be getting better since I'm single ice cream from now on. Somehow I'm so relief though there's a part of me that feel 'lil bit sad cause I let go something I actually love. Something that I actually wants to keep.
But I'm tired. I can't stand it anymore. I'm sorry to myself, I even sorry to Red cause Red won't this happen and Red's hate my decision (or maybe that was only how it looks). It's killing me when I found something strange in his gaze. He's here with me but where is Red? Red's not with me.
But you know what? True love is all the same like Aborigine's traditional weapon. Love just like a bazooka. You pull it away and it backs to you again. It will. I'm searching the truth in myself, truth in my life, truth in every little thing I did. Truth in my love, too. I'm searching for a true love and I won't play any game of love.
Time heals. It should be.
And if it's not work, I guess I have to continue my life with my little pieces of broken heart, but not with regret.
But somehow I believe Red would back again. I just have to wait in unlimited time. One thing I'm sure, it couldn't be so hard. Not as hard as Giraffe's case.
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