Is it a lie?

Is it all a lie?

We are bombarded in the media with the sense of love, that it always works out, that it is able to conquer all, it is wonderful, you will always feel good.

I slept about four hours last night, I ate very little to day, and I have still not felt sleepy at midnight despite having a full day.

The reason? This wonderful thing called love.

It has transformed itself into a myth at some point, along the way either love changed or we ignore it.

The biggest one: Fate.

Love is wonderful, but it will not work out unless you try, and right now, I am the only one trying.

I do not know how I will make it through this, I hope to sleep tonight, I hope to feel like eating tomorrow.

But most of all, I hope that she will call me and tell me that she is sorry.

That she forgives me.

That she wants me back.

That she wants us back.

Really, what I am hoping for is fate.