My great miseries in this world have been Heathcliff's miseries,and I watched and felt each from the beginning; my great thought in living is himself. If all else perished and he remained, I should still continue to be; and if all else remained and he were annihilated, the universe would turn to a mighty stranger. I should not seem a part of it. My love for Heathcliff resembles the eternal rocks beneath - a source of little visible delight, but necessary. I am Heathcliff - he's always, always in my mind - not as a pleasure, any more than I am always a pleasure to myself - but as my own being.
I've been reading Wuthering Heights all day and I still cannot find the will to put the book down.My head is still pounding-it has been aching and throbbing for days now but it doesn't compare to the pain in my chest.
It has been a month and two days. I'm starting to doubt that I can ever forget. What I wouldn't give to forget for even just a second. I wish it was that easy, but then again, this is life. Moreover, everybody dies sometime. Everybody gets left behind.
I am literally sighing as I type down this post. Perhaps, next year, I will look back to this day and laugh at myself. Perhaps I'll wonder why I am so down today,almost losing hope,clueless and scared of the future.Maybe it will all end happily. Maybe one day, I will be able to walk down the streets, good as new, as if I have never gone through something like this at all. Or maybe not.
I kind of made a promise to myself. I've been hurting a lot lately,and I think it's about time I make myself happy. The question is how? How do I make myself happy when as soon as the word happiness comes to mind,all my brain can produce is a very vivid scene of myself with a guy-a guy whose face I cannot see-together in a brightly lit room,feeling warm and cozy,sitting in an oriental rug,reading some novels by the fire. I can hear the crackling sound of the coals breaking as the heat consume them. I can feel his fingertips absentmindedly brushing against mine. The sound of the heavy pouring rain pelting the roofs is so real that I can almost touch it.
I guess I just have to wait,you know? Wait for time to actually mend everything that's broken. But no matter what happens, I will never wait for life. Death has been showing itself to me quite often these days- I have attended quite a lot of funerals, more than normal, if I should say so. Every time I see someone else part with a loved one for good, it breaks me. It breaks me cause I know how awful it feels to know that there is NOTHING you can do. Sometimes, it almost drives me crazy, knowing that it doesn't really matter if I cry all night. In the morning, he still will not be there, and the only thing that will change is that my eyes will appear puffier than they already are.
With that said, I just realized that nothing good really comes out of my grievance. It only annoys my friends who don't care enough and hurts the ones who do. So I'm letting go...Step by step, day by day, we will part until it's not so painful anymore. I will keep my head up,searching the skies for the brightest star,and I shall assume it is you,shining down on me. I will keep my head up and let the golden beams of sunlight kiss my face,and it shall be just as good as your lips brushing smoothly against my skin.
I shall love everything beautiful in this world, and it will be like loving you, and it will be like you are never gone at all.
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