#everythingsnotlost

She read him like a total sadomasochist. She read him at all times. This wasn't the first time it happened this often. 

She had some kind of lapsus, two types actually. The first one she couldn't possibly stop thinking about him and the other one, blinded by the illusion of feeling compleately and fully in love, she forgot about him. 

And in between the letters she read that night, these powerful and lovely words stared at her from the other side of the screen, mocking at her. She had lost him for he had found love in a place she would never think he would find it, and that same night, she had lost it all. 

That night she had lost the feeling of knowing what love was, of security in another person, of comfort, of romanticism, of the good over the wrong. But no! She didn't lose it because she had lost him. He never harmed her. She harmed herlsef. The thing is that that same night she lost everything, she ironically lost him too. It might have been unfair for her, but it was such a stroke of luck for him.

Things have a way of solving themselves out, no leaf will fall from a tree for no reason, everything happens for a reason and has a reason. Maybe it needed to happen, maybe this was karma finally knocking at her door and telling her "its time". The bitch was telling him: "You are a free man". If this would have happened and he had not fell in love, he might have fallen into her evil little hands all over again, and she would have make him suffer one more time. He wouldn't have even realized.

She had a cup of coffee and a veggie crep in a public place right next to a stranger. Her fingers where itching to write some sad words, her mind was singing "Hoping everything's not lost", from Coldplay.