Fate
Luck
Love…
Trust?
Fuck them all.
I don’t need luck and I’ve always sworn I’d make my own fate so what in all hell has me sitting here staring out at the waves in the middle of the night? How have I let myself get to this point? How have I fallen this far? Wasn’t it just a few weeks ago I was mocking others for this very thing?
I feel… guilty.
As if I have any reason to feel guilty over this. I’m not the one who couldn’t keep her hands to herself. I’m not the one who didn’t know what she had until it was gone. And yet they nag at me, assailing my ears, my mind, my heart and it never ends! It never fucking ends.
Of course they pity him. Maybe if they’d learned to keep their damn skirts in place, they’d be able to look at this a bit more logically.
Logic…
Hah. That’s as likely to sink in around this bloody city as I am to board this ship leaving port right now and head to Perran.
I may have lost all trust, but I haven’t lost my fucking mind and I don’t intend to throw away everything I’ve worked for.
I make my own fate. Decide my own destiny. And I do not wish to taste my death again. After all, I already know what it will be.