Оригинален текст
You can only talk so much about things that are never, ever going to happen. My brothers at home with his dog and his cat and his wife is at a friends. You can only go on so long about feelings that never, ever actually touch you. No matter how much she told him I love you, he found it would depend on the gifts that he bought her, or how badly she was hurt when the boss was cruel at work. But hed just say I love you, and hed reach out to her. He was feeling like s**t when I came to visit and walked through the door of his tiny apartment. We went for a walk through the park by the market so we could get some air. And I told to him all things intended to help him, especially that, simply because it was ending, that that didnt mean she was always pretending. Real happiness was there. I could see and I could tell: it was real love that they felt. And Im sorry it didnt end well, but some things just dont - thats life, and you shouldnt blame yourself. And all of these things, well, I truly believe them. Our paths and our futures are hidden in mists that are stretching out over impossible distances, totally obscured. And I really do think that theres probably more good than anger or selfishness, sickness, or sadness would ever completely allow us to have in this life, I think Im sure. But that doesnt mean its bad. We were walking towards our dad, while getting out of that school bus, and he just said I love you, and he reached out