It’s funny sometimes what you find in the aftermath; amongst the smoldering debris and crumbling societies.  I knew that I was irrevocably in love with your dark side.  Contrary to your beliefs I think that if you love someone long enough they become yours.  You are mine.  I am yours.  It’s just how it works.  Though the chances of us ending up together burnt to ash, I find myself digging through that aftermath- through the smoldering debris and crumbling societies.  I may be looking for an explanation or more so perhaps I search for an excuse.
  I try to uncover what made me fall in love with you but when I get knee deep in the memories I find nothing; nothing? How could that be?  I find no trace or vapor trail.  Not a breath or exhale.  From the evidence one must surmise that love just happens and that it’s a curse to despise.  I haven’t discovered yet whether this love of mine for you will lead to my demise or if by some roulette of fate I’ll be spared the cruelty of destroying who I am because of what I’m afraid you’ve made me.
  I wish I could **** myself.  I wish I had the heart to take the easy way out of discovering myself- discovering how the world operates.  But I am far too arrogant to let sadness get to the better sides of me.  I want you there; your love a dagger and no exit wound.  Despite my wishes trust me when I say I’ve tried- tried to die.  Dying is a chore, something that can’t be done haphazardly.  The best way to be killed is lovingly and slowly.  If you’re dying correctly it’ll take 80 years and a million kisses from a woman, a woman like you.
  I swear that this affectionate way I harbor you is a hex.  My body is an altar, pentagrams and other witching scars, marks and stigmas.  But the scars tracing my body like blood veins are reminders, or more accurately they’re lessons.  If I had the opportunity to travel back in time and do everything ‘right’ I’d refuse.  This is what’s meant to be and somehow; by some twisted notions I am still convinced we’re destined to belong to each other.  When you love someone long enough they just start belonging to you.  There’s no deed or contract other than the love we share.  You’re mine.  I’m yours.  I don’t like it but that’s how things are and even though it’s ****** up I hold onto that simple truth.  There isn’t a lot of truth to hold onto in this world but I’ll hold onto you.
  Sorry that sometimes I lose my mind.  I get scared easily, by change, the future and a menagerie of other common things.  But you have always forgiven me and looking back into those ceaselessly flowing memories: that is why I love you; I love you immortally and with the strength of diamonds.  I love you because every time I lost my mind you said that you still loved me.  I love you because every time I tore your blade from its place (snug in my heart) you held your hand over the wound.  I love you.  I love you.  I love you.  I love you. I love you. I am asking you to do it again and I know it’s hard, but I am asking you to do it a million more times.  I am asking you to love me until I die; even if I die 80 years from now- Even if I die tomorrow.  Just let me go on thinking you love me immortally and with the durability of the ocean.
  Even though I’m your hex, your curse, the worst part of you I believe wholeheartedly that you’re the best part of me.  You’re my boon, my blessing, the best part of who I am.  It’s terrifying what you find in the aftermath; amongst the smoldering debris and crumbling societies.  I find though that when you love someone long enough they become yours.  You’re mine.  I am yours.