Every time I find myself saying that true love is not true, a myth some laments created just to bring hope in people, something to look forward to when the past is too burdensome to be remembered, something to hold on to when everything else fails. Sometimes I believe myself a bit too much, and the other times I'd be wondering whether these are just excuses I make just so that I could build even higher and stronger walls, blocking everyone from knowing what's really inside me, the way I feel and the things I wish I could say out loud. And now I think I confuse myself a bit too much. But then again, this confusion might really be the only thing that's keeping me sane, keeping me alive.
Well, at least I'm still here. At least I'm still breathing. Good enough for now.
