"We've all been in love, but we never know it's not true love until it's over. So what if Maybe there is no one or two or three or four or five? I mean, what if there is no such thing as true love, and we're just too afraid to admit it, so we keep on dressing up, we keep on pretending to be something that we're not. We keep turning our lives upside down, losing ourselves in something that we hope is better than what we think that we are. What if that something that we're looking for just doesn't exist?"
talking to myself again .. that night was as much a surprise to me as it (maybe) was to him. But meeting him (again) was like going to a place that I had never been before. And after we left, I just laid there on my bed in my hotel, staring up at those ceiling, and - after a while they just started forming a pattern, this weird pattern that linked together my entire "don't know what" feelings. And for the first time everything seemed clear to me - like one logical progression. It felt like him and I were the greatest un-plan ever made and I had nothing to do with it. Meeting him made me feel that maybe I didn't have to keep planning anymore because it felt like I was actually living. And that for once in my life I wouldn't have to work so hard at being happy. That it could just happen un-planned!! Nothing will ever hurt me as much as his reaction to that same experience.
"Why was it a mistake?"
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