Eccentric
Christine...
Christine...
Christine...
It didn't matter. Her face in the dark, it was all he could see. He should learn, his heart would never be found in anyone's arms.
Especially… Not in her arms.
Because he was a beast. A poet who failed to write an ending to each of his poems… He'd be forever an ocean soul, lost in his own mind. If he closed his eyes and ceased to exist, nobody would shed a tear for him. He suspected that… well, he was sure that nobody would even notice. Not even her. Because... she was happy now, somewhere else, far from his wings.
And she had left her angel… To die alone.
How could he bear this pain? And yet; in some way, he was happy. Happy because he was sad, and he knew that feeling sad made him… human. He had loved. In fact, he was still in love... and feared he'd love her for the rest of his life, and who knows even after that…And isn't it love that makes humans different from monsters? Than he certainly wasn't a monster, at least an obscure part of him was still human. In better days, he'd struggle for this side, as the thing he feared the most was the certainty that his bright side would be overwhelmed by his dark side.
But not today.
For months, Christine had given him something to long for. She had given him hope, in some way. And now, there was nothing to hope for except grief and the sense that life wasn't worth living.
Erik collapsed on the floor. He was lost in the darkest of paths.
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the all dark side thing was very… well, Star Wars, I guess… don't you think?