scumbags.

Every storm brings with it hope that somehow by morning everything will be made clean again and even the most troubling stains would have disappeared like the doubts over his innocence or the consequence of his mistake, like the scars of his betrayal or the memory of his kiss. So we wait for the storm to pass, hoping for the best even though we know in our hearts some stains are so indelible nothing can wash them away.

What goes around comes around. Why do we still stand up for people who don't even give a fuck about us? Why do we do everything in our power to make them feel better when they did nothing but give us pain? Why do we care for people who only care for themselves? Why do we change ourselves for people when they are the ones who need to change? Why do we bother for people who are so self-centered, that the only person they could ever love is themselves?

Tears sometimes flow endlessly like the oldest of waterfalls.

I need strength.

I need courage.

I need faith.

I need hope.

GOD is GREAT.