But as he thought that I would react? What did he expect? Always expects too much from me! Claims, and in return what I offer? All that is yours is mine. He says. Yes, but in the meantime I can not do anything without asking permission. And without realizing it most of all. Because he does not attacks you, never gets angry. He looks at you with those eyes lit up, sideways, with a weak smile and sad, but not desperate. And this is enough to make me fit in as twisted ribbons and hair color. I feel the smell of shame and then the anger, woven so deep pride that makes no distinction from guilt. And without either of them really belongs to me. And 'he who causes the fault with his gentleness, with his mercy. For if you forgive because there was error. And I do not want to lose her. Why did not I masi wrong. What if I did not respond to your requests? Starmene good every day. Work. Relentlessly. Unabated. Without happiness. I am done with: do everything for others. They are generous. Do not ask. I do. I start to serve. I sacrifice myself. I hide my dreams to myself. And they are sensitive. I understand what others feel. I feel it inside me, on the skin, penetrating as an ointment. Burns. I see those faces, the look that tries to hide, while betraying annoyance. I see those light movements of the shoulders, the angle that the body does with the light of sections cut their thoughts. And I understand that my generosity is once again wasted. I never wanted anything for me, by anyone. I gave to all without limit and without reserve. Especially him. I obeyed. With great difficulty. Why cancel yourself requires discipline, which combines search in vain for a road, is aligned, allowing ... And understand that there is no alternative. So, grudgingly, deny, deny everything, always deny, deny themselves. With hope, always denied, of discovering a treasure. But there is nothing in this at all, with nothing left when the move will have removed all dry. There is no sense, especially. Neither taste. Yet I do. Not to see that his eyes at night, resting up for loving me. How much do you hate her love! Love me not ... I want to change. The claims. I want to imprison. 's not enough to have already made me an obedient servant? I'm here from the first hour. What do you want? hate his mercy. I hate the sweetness that pours out of me. E 'torture. A challenge. And how much I hate my hate. I fight. I try to drown it was, waving his life, taking away depth: the depth of wounds and prevents me to see clearly which side of the fence I am. Because I know where they are, but do not always see it. I'm alright. I'm on the duty performed. I've always been here with you, I told him. I have always obeyed. And what do you do? Why does this wicked, who still dare to call my brother, returned. ... You know the calculation for you, too, for no other reason, not sense justice .... You know where he was, after having squandered all, was the hunger ... and I think back to your love? You're a fool and a dreamer!
Repentance? Do not tell me that you believe! And keep your head on my shoulder like that, it irritates me that your calmness. Especially today when the only penalty would be meaningless. Do not say revenge, which I know you is not involved, but at least they are correct. You who proclaim the right ... why not apply this justice? Why not paid? Why do you soften? What love is this that does not provide for revenge? He babbles. Search for comfort. And what do you do?
Without even call me, tell me .. without even involve me in your mercy .. without even enhance, alongside you in this exaggerated gesture of forgiveness, so that at least I would have shared the elegant nobility, prestige, means to me, for my sense of justice, without any of this ... do you party?
But what do you think you prove? Even if he laughs, you have deceived twice. No, they hit me. He has cheated me twice. I went forward. I was the real target. And you've left him to do. If you enjoyed it and now returns as a hero, without even ...
No, do not talk of love, is something else. You have not already reserved a bit for me. And I gave you everything. I did everything you asked me, always. Without saying a word. I bowed my head and obeyed. Duty. You're pushing hatred. Everything has a limit.
Yes, so I told him. And I turned my back. does not even have made a gesture to detain me. Not a word. I saw him behind me, so I saw it even if we turn our gaze: With your arms slightly open, the wind stirred her hair, like an ugly picture.
And those eyes, that I never could bear that spat sad sober and clean.
sensed the emergence of a tear. And that I could not forgive him. Because I knew that was true. I have not turned around. I'm gone.
You made too big father, this time. I do not deserve
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