Sunday lunch at the family house always ends with fists and broken bones, sad eyes and sore jaws, but we always go back, always will.
There's different forms of love and abuse is one of them. Couldn't understand this in the beginning but when dad would start drinking and mom would start screaming my hands would shake and this would **** him off so I'd run and try pull my brother from the house but he'd resist, 'cause he was convinced that that's what love looks like.
There's different forms of abuse and love is one of them. You're going to love someone and end up leaving, be it even only at death. Staying leads to leaving but you're still going to try and make someone else's smile your home 'cause you're convinced that that's what love looks like.
Every relationship starts with a new face and ends with a broken heart. Love leads to loss but we always go back, always will.
We're all created with pieces of another person inside of us and when you find that person, that other half, you'll feel so much and it'll hurt so bad for so long and I don't know why but life has a despondent way of comparing love to the bad things...
I don't want this, I don't want the bad things. I'd rather live on as two quarters of my full self, a contrite fraction of her and I than give life an evil grip on us both. She deserves so much contentment, so much appreciation - the kind I long to give her - but when we start giving, life will start taking and it won't stop until we're left undone life puzzle pieces with decrepit edges, one that no longer belongs to another.
When life gets cruel, like it will, when we get tired and bitter, when loving - like before - becomes an ordinary thing, I don't want the girl I could see myself without to be you. Because darling, everything ends and me not telling you that I love you doesn't mean that I don't, it simply means that I don't want to stop.
— The End —