I could lose my mind, your love drives me crazy, and I ignore the reason why I'm crying at everytime I remember it's not reciprocal and you're saying that you're sorry because you don't show everything.

I prefer to be a sad screwed stupid bitch, than a fucking liar, fake and pretender that has to put different masks per day.

Lying there, feeling safe in his tight embrace, a tear escaped my resolute eye and darkened his purple shirt. I usually do not cry when I am afraid, but invariably did when I felt safe and cocooned, like I felt in the confines of his strong, sure arms.

Oh yes, even I cry. Just not over you. Who is "you?" The one who has to ask or the one who doesn't?

You get weird and unsettling behaviour in the country.

We're not feeling sorry for ourselves. We're minus one of our players but we have a lot of other players who will step up to the plate.