Description
Love, he told himself, was open to interpretation like any other abstract indulgence but followed the same principles everywhere, irrespective of everything else. One, either won or lost in love, there was no bridge in between, and he decided he had lost, lost to himself, if not to her. For it is far more painful to awake from a beautiful slumber and - in that brief period when the continuity of life is still lost to you - to reach across the bed for a hand that is not there. It was like how a flower knows, when its butterfly will return, and if the moon walks out, the sky will understand; but now it hurts, to watch you leave so soon, when I don't know, if you will ever come back. And so I write to you a letter that begins With I love you and ends with I love you and somewhere in the middle is one goodbye for, Every hurt. - Love Carslile Cullen. -_--_--_--_--_--_--_--_--_--_--_--_--_--_--_--_--_--_ Carslile Cullen x reader I do not own the characters from twilight.
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