“What is love without money, if not eating dirt to live?”
Cruel but truthful, isn’t it?
And so we played. We foolishly bet our love on this, and we lost bitterly.
The die has been cast, and we have lost each other. The promise of happiness in our hearts and cash in our pockets was never fulfilled. We asked for too much. We wished for too much. We begged for too much. And no one was entitled to give us what we desperately hoped for, what we knew deep down we never deserved.
We should have known better. We should have known our place. We should have been content with our miserable, impoverished, debt-ridden life and made do with what we had, rather than dreaming of Eden and landing ourselves in this hellish place.
A place with golden chairs and silver cups, but not a single door to escape whatsoever.
A place lit by thousands of crystal lamps, as if to overwhelm its own dark terrors.
A place where I can see you, but cannot touch you. A place where I kill you, hour by hour, but cannot save you.
I’m living the most extravagant nightmare, and there’s no one to rescue both of us.