Continued version ...
"Lucas died saving you"
We all have different perspectives of love. You just didn't know that, probably. Some of us have the idea that love is intimidating, fierce and painful. Others could think it's all about addiction, sex and complete desire. But the most optimistic humans might have the opinion that it's completely fragile and beautiful. But one characteristic of love that we can all think about is sacrifice. Either it's in a dangerous situation or something so respective. But all you have to understand is whoever is sacrificing themselves, they're doing it for you. Because they were caught in the hopeless idea of love. Because even if they fall with no one beside them, they don't need it. They don't mind it. And that's the interpretation of something beautiful.
We looked like lovebirds chasing each other throughout the night. But we're not. It's all about different perspectives. Everything that was recently spoken was ringing through my mind. About my destined forbidden. About the guy who would hold my delicate fingers. Whose kisses were sweeter than honey. Whose determination led me out of a wroughtful society. Whose considerate decisions had led me to bitter tears.
I didn't know where I was actually going. The minute my husband told me the splintering truth, there was a moment of pure silence, before he grabbed onto my wrist and pulled me out of the house and something towards the parks of Paris. Well, more like dragging. My ears and mind and of course my body felt numb to it's touch. It was a painful example of how words can hurt you. The night was blurred up lights and I was the helpless victim. And all I needed was the truth.
It wasn't until the multicolored lights and the glistening structures, that I had known it was the Eiffel tower. The lights were dimmed low, making it look pleasantly beautiful. There was about half an hour before the tower would hesitantly close for the night. And open once again for the preview of coming attractions and of course it would happen in the midsummer dusk. But I couldn't think about the beauty that Gustave Eiffel had created. I could only think about the truth that had buried inside my life for years, since now.
As we finally have gotten to the peak of the tower, he skidded to a halt, bringing me with him. He turned around slowly to look at me, breathing out words that I was senseless to. "I'm so sorry." I shook my head, refusing to use unfamiliar words anymore. Tears pricked the back of my eyes, making it extremely difficult to listen and converse. He could only stare at me with a concerned and feigned hurt, as I pushed away his hands.
"I'm so sorry," he tried to repeat his words, but I refused to hear them. I refused to hear something that couldn't possibly have happened.
"He didn't die! He couldn't have died. Look, he's probably out there somewhere in the world having the time of his life. Because he didn't have to experience what I had gone through. He's probably smiling down at his beautiful children and falling in love with his beautiful wife. There's nothing so wrong that I have ever heard, except that wrong statement."
He furrowed his eyebrows and shook his head sadly. "It is possible. You deserve to know the truth. After all, I have seen his body," Those words have sickened me to the core. Knowing that I had only gotten a little taste of the bitter truth after years of being blinded, to only figure out that it was worse than ever. Gun shots and wounds had never hurt me, but those words. They were disgusting.
I shook my head, with shaking hands to my ears. I stared up at the holes in the ceilings, except they weren't ceilings. It was just a structure with an eruption of flaws. Flaws that showered down on hopeful humans. That never deserved the pain.