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I want to believe. I need to believe. I crave to believe. I struggle to believe.
But every signal, every riddle, every answer, they all deny you. They set you as a failed hipothesis, they stablish you're nothing but a lie.
And somehow, I like to think you're buried in the cemetery physically, but the ember of your soul is printed into my soul.
But I'm searching, believe me I do. I use my snipper sight, I drink lots of coffee, and I stretch my eyes.
I do all that and nevertheless, you're no where to be seen.
And some say you're happy now. You're happy, with him, somewhere far where no one can even get a glimpse of you.
But it's hard, how do I believe in something I can't feel?
I want to have faith. I really do.
But it somehow abolishes my faith, bulldozes over every intent of happiness, because you're here no more. And you're not coming back.
I can't help breaking out in tears, I can't help feeling how every tiny joint of my soul and body start disengaging, and I just fall.
Do I believe in some childish nonsense, just to pretend I'm happy? Or do I search carefully for the truth, though it's untouchable and unreachable?
I'm hurt. It's Christmas Eve and I'm hurt.