Well, that's okay. Young love rarely survives anyway. It was
amazing while it lasted, right? Yes, and it was an extravagant,
wretched love. There was love, there was hatred, there was
passion, there was ignorance, there was fear, there was tension,
there was struggle, there was success, there was trial and error,
there was pain, there was laughter, there were tears, there were
promises, there was blame, there was surrender, there was
support, there was accompaniment, there was perseverance, there
was inconsistence, there was life! There was reality. He lifted
me up then dug me back into the ground. I haven't been able
to stand for a while. There were so many moments of sparks and
darkness, I don't know where I'm going anymore. He gave
me strength. He gave me justice. He gave me a voice with no hope.
He gave me love, but it was different. He gave me joy, and gave
me shame. But it was love. It was powerful. It was a curse. It
was ugly, yet beautifully stitched together with pieces of our
lost minds and broken hearts.
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