I have been standing at the window, feeling waves of tiredness beat the remaining strengths from my body. The floor seems to be undulating beneath my feet. I like to think that it is not weakness or evasion,but a final act of kindness, a stand against oblivion and despair, to let my lover live happily. I gave her happiness, I gave her pain and I was not so self-serving as to let her forgive me.
If I had the power to correct all the mistakes I would say, "Come back, it was only a bad dream."
Its not impossible.
But now I must sleep.
(Inspired from Ian Mcewan novel)
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