She gave up love long time ago.

Love makes her weak, love steals her joy of living, love even drives her mad.

And watching her you truly end up believing that there are even more ways to loose your sanity and love is the worse of all. And without cure.

She can live better without love. Her eyes burn, her hair fades in heartbeats and tears and all her being just blooms when sadness kisses her.

All her beauty lies in solitude and darkness. Love steals away her freedom.

Love means living through another, feeling what he’s feeling when she doesn’t want to feel anything.

Being loveless gives her the opportunity to be her own master. Master of destruction. Master of reinventing herself.

Every night she wonders:

“Why do we need someone else to feel complete?”

“Isn’t enough beauty around us to admire and to be fond of? Why do we have to give up ourselves to somebody else besides ourselves? “

“Love’s the funeral of hearts.  You’ll always end up brokenhearted.”

Love gave up on her long time ago.

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