Cupid=Satan
Well, once again I'm sitting around thinking of my Demon. It's been 6 months since she walked out of my life this time and I'm waiting to see how long it will be till she comes back. The first time she left it took a year. The second time it was 4 years. She keeps coming back though. I'm in love with a psycho. Everytime she returns she tells me how much she loves me and she's so sorry for hurting me. I take her back everytime too. I love her. Why, I'm not sure. I've dated other girls, but everytime she comes back I run to her like a moth to a flame. Which is a great analagy since just like a moth i get burned everytime. What do you do when you love a psycho? When we're together I'm the happiest I've ever been. Then she leaves again and I sit around depressed and miserable and blaming myself. I know she's a headcase and I know why she's a headcase (childhood evil) I just don't know why I keep letting her come back. Why I can't stop loving her. I've been going through this for 10 years now. How much more do I deal with before I lean to let go? Just how stupid can one person be?
These Echoes In The Silence Brought To You By Azathoth100 at 8:15 PM
BM again, hangin in the fizz...
As the artist formally known as “Poe” once sang “You can’t talk to a Psycho like a normal like human being” soooo replace the word “Talk” with “Love” and well, wait I will do it for you..
You can’t love a Psycho like a normal human being.
See there! There you have it! Proof in the pudding!! Now “How can you have any pudding if you don’t eat your meat?!?!?!” ok now this one is a whole other story…
BS:
I, also, enjoy a good psycho.
No, wait!! Wait!! Pudding. I enjoy a good pudding.
Psychos suck.
Another word - Pinochle. Also better than psychos.
You'll deal with as much as you can take, and when you finally can't take anymore, your heart says it for you. "ENOUGH!" it screams. That's when the pain becomes a page that is lodged into your book of life. I know because the best man I ever knew left me because I failed him by no fault of my own. It hurt, it stung, but after a while it became a fact that I accept. Some things are not meant to be yours. sounds harsh, but let it go . Your book of life has countless chapters to be written. Get your quill.