Who knew that all of the sensations were real?
The ones that we all find foolish.
We find that all of the words are staged, until we become part of the play.
The extremes become the means to our existence.
A broken heart? Who would believe such a thing?
Such an impractical diagnosis.
An empty mind? An impossible conviction.
A pain so sharp, a knife so long and wide, that all that is left remains numb.
Doubtful at best.
All of these disbeliefs thrown into an everyday life.
The disbeliefs that were experienced from the other extreme not long before.

Who would believe love can stop time?
That it could defy the rules of nature and create the calm after the storm?
That it finds life when death transpires?
That it could bring two lives into one?

I did.

I believed it all, and what a fool I have been.
So now I have lost all faith,
all trust that these feelings can coexist with our everyday lives.
I am a fool who has been deceived. A fool who has lost meaning even in deceit.

And now I remain numb in the storm of reality.

Alone.

As we all start, and we all end.