I refuse to believe that loving means that we had to sacrifice ourselves for them. I refuse to accept that love is the most cursed gift in the universe. Why? Just why does love had to be in the same sentence of those heinous words. Love, the word itself is derived from a beautiful act. But love, also made me mad. Love was the one that killed me. Love was the one that broke me to pieces that I can't even pick up anymore. And so I swore, I took an oath that the next time I fall in love, will be the reason of my death. A reminder, a warning, an endgame, to whoever I give my heart next, I will be the one to be responsible.
