Illusion

Unusually … But I always get used to it too quickly – but grow out so I can not. She comes home early and holding a phone – and do not know whether to call me … She asked me yesterday what I would have done in her place … Yes, all the same thing, because I – it it, and it – it's me. And at that moment I allowed myself to get scared and leave, not just my words are impaired, but also a sense – in seconds, viscous as honey, but is rapidly departing from us like sand through his fingers. But in periphery of the illusion of the eternity and immutability of existing in this world, when only one step away from the abyss of despair, pain and destructive, no one will ever believe in the possibility that everything has a habit of end. This property of every person – to his last breath, until recently, looking to believe in the inevitability of the possibility of happiness.

I'm with maniacal persistence over the years painstakingly building their wall between themselves and environment. And unpleasantly sharp and I was struck by a sense of fear that soon it will stay behind this wall of paralytic weakness through which to me did not get through and not get through. I suppose I was too afraid that even though someone allow himself to regret I must have eventually become impossible to trust people and let them get too close to him …