“After all, what is happiness? Love, they tell me. But love doesn't bring and never has brought happiness. On the contrary, it's a constant state of anxiety, a battlefield; it's sleepless nights, asking ourselves all the time if we're doing the right thing. Real love is composed of ecstasy and agony.”
/The Witch of Portobello, Paulo Coelho
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Why are we here, when we were going there?
My day ended as quickly as it started.
I dont know how to look forward.
Enough.. for today. I'm too afraid to even touch my phone.
Please tell me we are not parallels.
Heading for the same direction, but never meeting at a point.
Please tell me we are real love; that the reason for the agony, is the ecstasy.
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