(no subject)
Why is it that every time I make up to mind my resolve, he manages to shatter it? With him, I am strengthless, without him I am weak. And no matter how hard I try, no matter how much I punish myself, no matter how much my mind commands that I be rid of him, I cannot do it short of tearing my own heart out of my breast. I hate him because I love him so, and then I hate him all the more because he will always, always love me. Were he to turn from me, were he to hate me, I could live normally, happily, completely hollowly... But no matter how cruel I am, he is always there, his fingers in my hair and his eyes looking out through my own eyes so that I see the world as he sees it and I want what he wants.
Heathcliff, why did you come back? What was meant to be can never be and neither of us shall ever stop suffering for it.
He berates me for caring at all about anything else in the world, but this is the world where we must live and I cannot help but cling to such worldly cares.
I don't know what to think about anything at all anymore. Who to trust... who to believe... Half of me wants solid answers, and half of me is too afraid to dare to try to know. And how could I possibly ask? How could I?
Heathcliff, why did you come back? What was meant to be can never be and neither of us shall ever stop suffering for it.
He berates me for caring at all about anything else in the world, but this is the world where we must live and I cannot help but cling to such worldly cares.
I don't know what to think about anything at all anymore. Who to trust... who to believe... Half of me wants solid answers, and half of me is too afraid to dare to try to know. And how could I possibly ask? How could I?