There are worse things than death, such as living.

        Hope you're stronger than I was, when my greatest love had seen it's ending cover, though the book is still pretty vivid, the pages are torn and ripped. And there is no happy ending in sight for me. No one has any idea how deep my well is, and the deeper you get, the colder and darker this place grows. Much like a well, once you've fallen so far there is no climbing out. There is no sunlight, no happiness, no fucking rays of bullshit love to touch my skin. Nothing left to do but tread water constantly trying to keep my head above the water, but I grow tired, and often wish I could throw myself into the sweet relief.