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The cracks on the inside seem to be popping up all around me. I’m noticing them more and more because they seem to be a sort of mirror image of my inner state.

I long to stand on firm ground. The pavements i walk on seem harsh and cold. This urban mosaic is truly suffocating me, serving as a constant reminder. Not that i dare forget..

Ophelia loves and longs. Unconditional love is never in vain. A love that asks for nothing. A love that just is.

How painful is that love? What if it remains unfulfilled? Drowning in misery, after trying to live with it for so long, seems like the ultimate mercy. Unless of course it continues after death.

Ophelia loves and loves deeply. Her love is true and eventually leads to her demise, or salvation, depending on your perspective. Ophelia has lived other people’s lives for so long. Never hers. What a tragic existence.

Some say that love changes or even ends. Unconditional love doesn’t. According to the world, she’s worthy of pity. You can debate this logically and intellectualize to your heart’s content. It makes no difference to Ophelia.

Would she do it all again? I believe she would.

What to do when darkness looms and the flicker of light that had previously illuminated it starts to slowly, but surely, fade?

I would have never thought it posiible