Part Eleven: "No one really knows who causes each problem, since every single person points their finger at themselves, but never own up to it."
Gemma says nothing, because she is gone, and I am alone. I am hurt. And it is my fault. I am alone. And it is my fault.
What made me think that I deserve to love someone when I don't deserve to be loved? I thought that I had so much love to give, but nobody wants it, and nobody wants me.
I feel so much pain. I want to be numb.
My arms are bare. My mind is bare. My garden is bare.
Maybe Louis was winter not because he couldn't love someone, but because nobody could ever love him. Now that I understand the pain and the need to feel numb, I know why he was winter, and I know that he walked away because I tried to melt him. Who wants to stay with a person who makes them feel the memories of pain?
I remember what it was like to be spring, and it hurts the most to think that I might never be like that again. But Louis had hope. He could become spring again. I could give that to him, if only I can re-grow my garden...by myself. Then I will help him grow his until he grows his...by himself.
I choose to help him grow his garden, and my arms are still bare.
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The Liberosist
FanfictionLiberosist: One who desires to care less about things. "You know what they say...those who are heartless once cared too much." There is a world where love cuts you deep - literally. Each time you fall in love, a cut appears on your arm. Each time yo...
