They say into each life comes some pain and despairs. They neglect to explain how it feels to have your very heart ripped from the raw wound of your opened chest while you are still fighting to breathe.
Her name was ILY. I L Y as in I Love You, the name fit the angel well. It was the perfect name, for a perfect girl. Ily walked with me hand in hand. She listened contently while I told her stories about my life. I could feel it, Ily growing with me, we were united, a team, one, a pair. I don’t know exactly when it happened but all my dreams and plans became for us. I, became Ily and I. I wanted to share everything with her, books, time, memories, today, and all of my tomorrows. Fate was jealous that I had found my alpha and omega, my infinity of happiness. Ily was ripped away from me, my love, my heart, my child, without naye ever having a breathe of life. I now have no heart left…to grieve…for Ily…all…for my Ily.
Sa souvraya niendhe misain ye!
( I am lost in my own mind)
Mordaghain pas, duente curbear!
(Death fear, none holds my heart)
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