Drunk… As I write this, I am fully tipsy. Oh doth the pain trouble my aching heart. My soul is ripped, and I suffer the unending arrows of love, shot through my inebriated shell of a body.
Bella is gone; she has fled back to France without a word of comfort, only saying she could no longer live the life of opulence and splendor. WHAT??? My swollen eyes morn for her return, yet my mind reveals the truth.
I believed we were a match made in Heaven, a symbiotic relationship joined through love and admiration. One as a body, and one soul united through the truth of a perfect union.
I understand now that the truth reveals divergent paths. Are there no rules when it comes to love, should there BE so much hurt and disappointment for such a wondrous thing?
Woe, I say, for the aggrieved soul that is floating, as a bit of flotsam doth float in the sea, to recover a loss, is like waiting on the fallen rain to grow a single flower, slow as time passes, yet, fully and meaningful.
Once again, life starts anew, and leaves the weathered and confused soul to recover.