Everything went smoothly. They took their time to know each other. It was like they had always known each other. First off, they held hands for the sake of closeness. It was like touching the sun and the glacier at the same time. For youngsters, it was like confessing to your professor in primary school. Despite that, she still looked as beautiful as ever and innocent as a wildflower in a haunted forest of thousands of fairies. In that regard, life could not display anything, but feelings mixed between awkwardness in the world of a princess that barely knew everything about life. Nothing had reached her in values. That was the farthest thing from the truth. In the suffering of the world, she had plunged into the worst state of life. To come to understand, you need to oblige the main principle of what it means to show up for someone. Teenagers would not care because of how had felt at that moment. It would not be taken seriously enough for them on act based on logic. It was like writing like a seven-year-old.
Yeah. Kiss me there. I do not want you to stop until the sun sets. Our love is as red as my love for you. It is intense. The infinite of my love for you cannot be taken away. Hearts burn, floating, taking the sorrow away from us. I really need to tell you that I love. But words do not suffice to express my love for you. It goes natural as much as the trees get born in the roots of the earth. Please do not! Do not give a kiss! Sweeten me with your love and dance me with your heat. I really need to hold you with all the nourishing in my love for you. Veronika said as she kissed Basil with all her fervour.
The uncomfortable feeling of being alive could be profound in the corners of the universe; to love could be everything but the fondness of the beloved. To love is to suffer, she was suffering from loving and knowing that you are going to be unhappy despite the joy of loving if that loved one ever disappeared. To know, she needed to look deeply into his eyes in order to do that. She never felt that way, it could be needed that way. To clear the breakdown. But it could not fulfil the genuine flavour of love.
Alright! I already gave you the taste of my love. It could not suffice to hold you for eternity. But at least, it could tell me how much I needed it from the very beginning that I met you. That could not hold it together. The therapist of life can hold you: you need that love, tasting every corner of my being. That panic of wanting for more. So now, you are going clean Terraria. This corner of the being can desert most individual, but knowing this, you could actually hold it together. But at the face of defeat, love ceases to be for the dear one. You cannot forget about what you did: I defeated you with all my might. It cannot hold together the feeling of regret and that new illusion of love. That feeling of wanting to sacrifice because of feeling the need to find your gentleman. That is not real that is your delusion it would better for you to comeback and die, but you still decided to love against your own selfish nature, being honest about your love. Basil puzzled said in eternal temptation.
As he said this, Veronika used her light magic, cleaning the planet as if it were nothing for her. Forests and kingdoms were re-established in a time regression as if It had never happened and actually… it was working for her: she was crying. She never thought that someone could be that sincere to her in her life. You could not simply see that she it was the first time that she had fallen in love, you may think that it was her caprice as a lady, feeling masochistic. But no…. it was deeper than that. It could take years for an elven individual to fall in love. It was extremely hard to postpone what it could be done in seconds. That way, she made this home a new place for those ones who wanted to saved. That actually hurt her deeply. Her only hope was to extend the truth to the stars. Her love had reached threshold of tolerance: it was pure, natural and real. That capital of love could break the foundations of human existence. However, there was something to it: infinity in her heart.
Perhaps, after all, romance did not come into one's life with pomp and blare, like a gay knight riding down; perhaps it crept to one's side like an old friend through quiet ways; perhaps it revealed itself in seeming prose, until some sudden shaft of illumination flung athwart its pages betrayed the rhythm and the music, perhaps . . . perhaps . . . love unfolded naturally out of a beautiful friendship, as a golden-hearted rose slipping from its green sheath. This is why I deeply appreciate you. You mean the whole world to me. nothing can hide you from that one that actually loves you and… I really love you.
Describe your sorrows and desires, the thoughts that pass through your mind and your belief in some kind of beauty - describe all these with heartfelt, silent, humble sincerity and, when you express yourself, use the Things around you, the images from your dreams, and the objects that you remember. If your everyday life seems poor, don't blame it; blame yourself; admit to yourself that you are not enough of a poet to call forth its riches; because for the creator there is not poverty and no poor, indifferent place. In that regard: no one could actually shake it to its core and even if you found yourself in some prison, whose walls let in none of the world's sounds – wouldn't you still have your childhood, that jewel beyond all price, that treasure house of memories? That could be described from the wholeness of feeling and experiencing life. Basil said in despair trying to figure out this feeling.
The beauty of a woman is not in a facial mole, but true beauty in a Woman is reflected in her soul. It is the caring that she lovingly gives, the passion that she knows. But you are different. Instead, turn your attentions to it. Try to make a living out of it. Try to raise up the sunken feelings of this enormous past; your personality will grow stronger, your solitude will expand and become a place where you can live in the twilight, where the noise of other people passes by, far in the distance. - And if out of this turning-within, out of this immersion in your own world, poems come, then you will not think of asking anyone whether they are good or not. Nor will you try to interest magazines in these works: for you will see them as your dear natural possession, a piece of your life, a voice from it. A work of art is good if it has arisen out of necessity. That is the only way one can judge it. His mother would say to him, making him feel more confused, knowing that he had never lived a life like the one she described.