I'd like to keep this untitled.

This is an exact copy of what i wrote at 1am in the morning with a pen and piece of paper. I don't want to start getting emotionally involved in what i wrote again by editing.

Bitboy's axl name was, of course, replaced by 'Bitboy' for the purpose of being posted on here though.

...

There once were days, not too long ago, when I regretted my shallow depths of emotion. For all my practice and knowledge in writing, I couldn't see inside my characters' hearts. Their heads, I could manage quite easily, but no matter how hard I tried to fake it, I couldn't find genuine love, passion, despair or heartbreak amongst my words. And that was because, in all honesty I used my head too much, and never opened up my own heart to life's ups and downs. Understandable, having been hurt so many times when my guard was down, but as someone close to me always says, "You have to let the good in with the bad".

That proved to be especially true, the day i met Bitboy.

Suddenly it all made sense. My heart was awoken, my senses excited and my head... took a well-needed holiday. With a heart beating of love I found pleasure in everything. The happiness I was feeling was beyond anything I ever expected and I enjoyed every moment of it. I lost all sense of time - days melding to one continuous experience of excitement, laughter and pleasure - and I'd wake up each golden morning to a beautiful smile and go to sleep each night in the strong, safe arms of someone I loved. My heart ruled. I've come to call it dumb-happy. Bliss.

Then he broke up with me. Out of the blue is an understatement. He left me wanting to cry until I died. I couldn't bear the pain of a breaking heart but I had no choice.

The next day, there I would sit, crying, empty, broken. I've waited for time to fix me but have had little success. He woke my heart and now it can never sleep. It always hungers for love, but alas, I have none to feed it, so it remains broken to this day, causing me nothing but great pain, and stinging dreams of golden mornings and passion-filled nights.

I understand now, the beauty of life, the passion of a touch, the language of the heart.

And the pain. The terrible, never-ending, all-consuming pain of a broken heart, of cold mornings, and lonely nights.