pleur.

there is something about this world that makes me want to cry--
whenever i laugh, whenever i sit, whenever i turn left, whenever i open my fridge, whenever i lay down in my bed, whenever i am simply standing.
whenever i breathe...

and i don't know why.

i cannot wish for things to be that never have the possibility of occurring, and i suppose that this saddens me for it makes me realize that "no, it never could happen" but moreso it's often the ever-so-saddening slap in the face realization that "no, he never could love me." and all hope to live with a light in this life is diminished, and all that is left is this eden... in ruins.