Undeserving. That's the only word I can use to describe how I feel when I see my love walk into the room. The way she looks at me sends chills down my spine. Her kiss is heaven. Her touch, pure bliss. She knows not that she is the one piece that keeps me from tumbling over the edge into insanity.
I despise looking in the mirror. Seeing myself. A man who cannot free himself of his past. A past that remains so foggy that the effort of trying to see through it expends all energy. But why? Why am I tormented so? Why can I not let go of what I should? Because I still do not know if my parents' death was my fault or not. Either they were murdered by the hands of the enemy, or murdered by me. I thought I had conquered my fears. I thought I had survived my own insanity to rise above and live again. Yet now I find myself in the dark valley, looking up to find the stars too far out of reach.
