Trying to write this to you now is nearly impossible. The pen becomes so heavy in my hand it makes my fingers ache. Every word etched into the paper feels like another bout of blasphemy nailed to our hearts. If only love was as easy as faking smiles in passing glances.
Some people sit there and just make excuses. But not me. No, not anymore. I'm not making any more excuses. I'm making progress and I refuse to stop growing.