Diary: Reason to Live
Heartbreaker had spent many hours in the library before I found him. There he was, laying as if he had died in the arms of the books with his mouth wide open and his eyes shut. Resting among the books. He was searching for answers, for reason and maybe even for some hope.
One thing is for certain Heartbreaker wasn’t always called Heartbreaker. However, when you can’t feel time pass, you can’t age. For every new memory, every scar, they will appear to have happened only minutes ago, or at most yesterday.
He has lived under many names. He has served under many flags, looking for some order in chaos. One may think that he would have found it, sooner or later. What he found was more chaos, wherever he lay his eyes there was pain and wherever there was pain there was confusion. Confusion comes with ideals and morals. That very confusion is what will make humans kill each other for ever and ever.
So he started looking for the source of the pain. Obviously one must know the source to stop the fire from spreading. The source of pain was often love, no matter how direct. One might love his children and try to protect them from harm by keeping what is strange away from them. One might feel betrayed by a loved friend when that very friend ended the friendship. Maybe, just maybe should love for once be tollfree? Maybe you should love someone no matter what they do to you?
Heartbreaker did this. He started living for love, serving love’s cause and making it his purpose. Wherever he went he brought “real love” and then he left. The thing about giving real love to someone not able to give it back is that you will never be repayed. But for Heartbreaker it didn’t matter. Until that day, the day he got his name; Sir Heartbreaker. For many days, weeks, months and even years had I wondered about why he was called Heartbreaker. I supposed it was because of his good looks, he must have been a real ladies man! However, that was not the case.
Heartbreaker never got any of the love back. And giving love is like breaking of a piece of your heart. Hoping that the person you give love to will try and repair your heart. Noone ever did repay Heartbreaker. But he kept on giving his love away. As if it was worth nothing even though it was his most precious treasure. It was his own heart he kept on breaking. I know that now. I read it in his biography. He keeps on writing it, even though he can’t die.
With the other names he has lived, there was some sort of a stop when life got grand enough. There was an end. But as Heartbreaker he has spent more time than I can imagine. Rooms after rooms filled with bookshelf. Each and every one of them containing a piece of his biography. He has stopped numbering them. He has stopped sorting them. He just keeps on writing. As if cursed by love. I fear that I am becoming him. I must stop before I loose my heart aswell… or maybe. I should accept my faith and become his brother in arms. In his war against reality I would love to serve as a friend by his side!
