she’s as fucking broken as every stone that was part of the greatest beauties in the universe. She doesn’t know, like probably every asshole who dared to ask.
You know she has feelings for you.
That she’s so deeply in love that she doesn’t care what damage you can cause her, even if the pain becomes harder to overcome. You heard her say that after so much pain, she could do with a little more, because really the fear of dying without having lived no longer terrified her; it was eating away at her and you were the peace she needed.
And you saw her: you saw her bruises, every cut, every small sea of blood that was shed from her body, as time tried to heal and recover.
You watched his pain in silence, as he shouted a thousand vulgarities and hated himself. You watch even the sun today as it suffers, but no longer for it or its personal life, but for you. You ignored and you were so blind in your pain, you didn’t even see everything I changed for you. You were just suspecting a little hatred that you felt I had for you...
-"I’ll be doing the right thing"
Honey, nothing was right for her anymore.
And for the last moments of his life he just wanted to feel the feelings to their full potential:
He wanted to feel love, so he needed you in his life.
He wanted to feel hate, so he needed the world.
He wanted to feel sad, so he needed to see his family.
He wanted to feel life, so he needed to be on the verge of death.