The thing is not about whether you deserve, or your dieing alone in a fucking dirty girl's room without knowing the truth of life, knowing that you never be abondoned by family nor friends. It's all about I, who can not live with the strange, creepy but romantic memory which is unreal and not happend indeed. Even if you may never real love me, and we just end to stupid tragedy as our destiny in most of the trying. What do I want to prove? What can I prove? The thing I only want is to hear that you will never leave me.
Selfish but with no other better choice at all. I can only choose to live a preferred life, as anyone else does. Fuck the world.