"Loving the right person at the wrong time, having the wrong person when the time is right, and finding out you love someone right after that person walks out of your life...
Sometimes, you think you're already over a person, But when you see them smile at you, you'll suddenly realize that you're just pretending to be over them just to ease the pain of knowing that they will never be yours again...
For some, they think that letting go is one way of expressing how much you love the person...
Some are afraid to see the one they love being held by someone else... Most relationships tend to fail not because the absence of love - love is always present. It's just that one was being loved too much and the other was being loved too little...
As we all know the heart is the center of the body but it beats on the left. Maybe that's the reason why the heart is not always right...
Most often, we fall in love with the person we think we love but to only discover that for them, we are just for past times, while the one who truly loves us remains either a friend or a stranger...
So here's a piece of advice: Let go when you're hurting too much. Give up when love isn't enough, and move on when things are not like before... For sure, there is someone out there who will love you even more..."
The bell struck one, and shook the silent tower; The graves give up their dead: fair Elenor Walk'd by the castle gate, and lookèd in. A hollow groan ran thro' the dreary vaults. She shriek'd aloud, and sunk upon the steps, On the cold stone her pale cheeks. Sickly smells Of death issue as from a sepulchre, And all is silent but the sighing vaults.
Chill Death withdraws his hand, and she revives; Amaz'd, she finds herself upon her feet, And, like a ghost, thro' narrow passages Walking, feeling the cold walls with her hands.
Fancy returns, and now she thinks of bones And grinning skulls, and corruptible death Wrapp'd in his shroud; and now fancies she hears Deep sighs, and sees pale sickly ghosts gliding.
At length, no fancy but reality Distracts her. A rushing sound, and the feet Of one that fled, approaches--Ellen stood Like a dumb statue, froze to stone with fear.
The wretch approaches, crying: `The deed is done; Take this, and send it by whom thou wilt send; It is my life--send it to Elenor:-- He's dead, and howling after me for blood!
`Take this,' he cried; and thrust into her arms A wet napkin, wrapp'd about; then rush'd Past, howling: she receiv'd into her arms Pale death, and follow'd on the wings of fear.
They pass'd swift thro' the outer gate; the wretch, Howling, leap'd o'er the wall into the moat, Stifling in mud. Fair Ellen pass'd the bridge, And heard a gloomy voice cry `Is it done?'
As the deer wounded, Ellen flew over The pathless plain; as the arrows that fly By night, destruction flies, and strikes in darkness. She fled from fear, till at her house arriv'd.
Her maids await her; on her bed she falls, That bed of joy, where erst her lord hath press'd: `Ah, woman's fear!' she cried; `ah, cursèd duke! Ah, my dear lord! ah, wretched Elenor!
`My lord was like a flower upon the brows Of lusty May! Ah, life as frail as flower! O ghastly death! withdraw thy cruel hand, Seek'st thou that flow'r to deck thy horrid temples?
`My lord was like a star in highest heav'n Drawn down to earth by spells and wickedness; My lord was like the opening eyes of day When western winds creep softly o'er the flowers;
`But he is darken'd; like the summer's noon Clouded; fall'n like the stately tree, cut down; The breath of heaven dwelt among his leaves. O Elenor, weak woman, fill'd with woe!'
Thus having spoke, she raisèd up her head, And saw the bloody napkin by her side, Which in her arms she brought; and now, tenfold More terrifièd, saw it unfold itself.
Her eyes were fix'd; the bloody cloth unfolds, Disclosing to her sight the murder'd head Of her dear lord, all ghastly pale, clotted With gory blood; it groan'd, and thus it spake:
`O Elenor, I am thy husband's head, Who, sleeping on the stones of yonder tower, Was 'reft of life by the accursèd duke! A hirèd villain turn'd my sleep to death!
`O Elenor, beware the cursèd duke; O give not him thy hand, now I am dead; He seeks thy love; who, coward, in the night, Hirèd a villain to bereave my life.'
She sat with dead cold limbs, stiffen'd to stone; She took the gory head up in her arms; She kiss'd the pale lips; she had no tears to shed; She hugg'd it to her breast, and groan'd her last.