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I Brought You My Bullets, You Brought Me Your Love

Having your heart truly broken is like nothing ever expierenced. I lay on my back staring blankly at the ceiling. "I'm sorry," I think, "I never meant to hurt you." We were supposed to last forever.

 

In my head a war has erupted. Half of me wants to end it all, the other half says don't give up. But right now the only thing I think is "I wonder what it would be like to have a bullet pierce my skull, rattle around in my brain and then splatter the remnants on the wall." But of course feeling this way I get to thinking, "There's gonna be fragments of my skull on the walls and floor. And to tell you the truth, I'm not worth the mess."

 

Whoever said love is an illusion has never had the pleasure of expieriencing a heartbreak.  Love is... Fuck, what is it? I know the effects of love. Sitting up late at night waiting for her to call, then falling asleep only to have her call at three in the morning. Mapping out your lives, starting in July of 2009. Even picking out names for the children. These are effects of love. Love is neither solid nor liquid. Hot nor cold. Dry nor wet. Love simply... Is.

 

For once in my life, I am at a total loss for words. My mind is filled with too much to get out. I want to cry, but can't. I can barely breath. My thoughts are fragments. I feel torn apart. I can't think straight. Can't get you out of my head. I wish I could say, I wish I'd never have met you, but that would be a lie. You gave me more than anyone has ever given. You loved me when no one else had. You listened, you understood. I brought you my bullets and you brought me your love. I am so grateful to have shared this with you.

 

May God bless you in the future, may your happy times be many. May the wind be always at your back, and the sun on your face. It is said, at love's first touch every man becomes a poet. But now, the poet has died. But mark my words, He will return. I love you. My Beautiful, my One, my Star, My Hannah...

 

 
 
   
 

 
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