it hurts to live. life to me is a sekunde death, only like being left to bleed on a pavement instead of a quick stab, then to be left in peace. death and life are much the same thing now. only death seems zaidi peaceful, i already know, as i watch other people living there lives, there is nothing left for me. fun was like a greek word to me now. i didnt know what i ment. i thought about making the most of life before the pain killed me for sure. i couldnt remember HOW to have fun. what was the point of going to the beach? it wasn't going to bring my future back. it wouldnt make me feel any better. what was the point of going to the movies? it wasnt going to fill my sad eyes with excitment. i wasn't going to get better. not ever. i was going to be a girl that lived with no reason to live that had a life only of pain, her moyo Lost and her body cut into half. the pain was too much to bear. it took over, the pain never left, it flowed in my blood untill the poisen punched holes in my moyo over and over untill all the feelings of upendo and happiness are washed out with my blood. the funny thing was; well, there wasnt anything that was funny about it; i hated to think of him. i hated to think of the happiness he suddenly brought into my life. because, i thought, because, deep deep in my moyo where my thoughts were salama from causing me any zaidi unbearable pain, i knew that he was somewhere in the world, oblivious to the damage that he had left behind. i knew that he was carrying on with his life, and that he was proably with someone much zaidi beautiful then me kwa now, holding them in his stone arms. someone that he wasn't wasting his life kwa being with. someone that wouldnt turn into a wrinkled old lady in 60 years. but it wasn't his fault. he didnt know how deep i really was and how he was like a drug to me. he didnt know. au maybe he did. maybe he felt uncomfortable with me loving him so, when he didnt upendo me back. only he never had told me this because he was afraid of hurting me. he was the most selfless person ever. the ache for him made me feel sick, my eyes burned and prickled. i stared ahead waiting for my tears to dry, but kwa one flicker of movment, the hot beads of salt water rolled down my cold cheeks. i didnt blush anymore. my chokoleti brown eyes grew dark and empty. my limp hair hung, dead in a ponytail. i walked past my mirror, catching a glimpse of my reflection. i blinked and zaidi tears fell to the carpet. i turned away, not able to watch and to look at the face of a sad little heartbroken girl. i stared at the floor, my pain burning a hole in the ground with the emptyness of my eyes. i stumbled on my way to the door, even though i was still staring at my feet. i fell to the ground, and broke into desperate, heartbroken sobs that would probably scare charlie. i crossed my legs as i sat up weakly, staring into space, wishing i didnt have stupid human eyes, that i had vampire eyes that could see every dust mote in the air. every pattern in the wood of my bedleg. every brush line on the ukuta and every leaf on the trees outside, through the forest and across the mountins, the beach, pwani in la push, wishing i could see the world through my window, being able to pick out him out like a needle on a haystack, and bringing him nyumbani to me so i could hold him and never let him go. i knew i wouldnt be able to fight him as he would loosen my grip, as he strode off into the world once zaidi and broke my moyo again.