Yesterday I shot the last hope. It was agonizing on the floor, waiting for him to kill it. I knew he wouldn't do anything for my birthday, but my hope expected him to do something.
Well, two days after, there were no calls, no e-mails... not even a word when I found him on the chat last night. A year ago, he called me to my cell phone. This year, his silence finally killed my expectations.
It's already death. No more. It's over. And this time, it's for true. Let's close the book and keep it on the shelf of my memories.
Well, it was good while it lasted, and that's why it was so hard to let it go... Now, there's nothing more to do, but bury my sorrow and my pityfull hope.
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