Even when the blood in my veins is the same as them, every cell in my body is against becoming like them. What a curse it is to hate the very thing that birth you.
The world kept breaking you and here you are- still soft, still loving, how strong of you to maintain your magic in a world where everyone loses their essence.
Love is like water; like a river crushing through the mountains to carve its own path. Love will make its own way but only if you have the courage to follow.
