I used to be a fighter… I never gave up on the things and people that I viewed as important in my life. But somewhere along the line, I lost my fighting spirit. I’m now more likely to yield then challenge. I know what got me to this point, my mothers death broke me. It extinguished my own will to live, that’s why he suffered the most… Because he breathes life into me. When I’m with him I feel connected, plugged in to this surge of energy that never lets me stop fighting for the next breath. So you see why he had to go, death and life cannot exist in the same space. Now I’m back where I started, the most difficult thing is learning to find my voice again. Learning how to be alive again… So now he’s saved me twice, the first time was when I met him and the second is now. I know in my heart that he loves me and drowned in all the chaos that is my brain I know that I’ve always loved him. That time and distance has never been able to end our love. I feel him agonising, trying to figure out why his heart won’t let him forget me and why even after everything I’ve put him through he still wants me… Still needs me.
My question to you is why does some love last and others die? I think the difference is that we stop fighting. For the love that’s worth fighting for, the kind of love that brings us closer to who we truly are.
I am a fighter, and I’m going to fight for my love until the end…
Yours Sincerely
A fighter who has lost many battles but refuses to lose the War…
Her Quietude 