There isn't enough I can say about perseverance and doing what you know is right. It doesn't matter how much you want it, you want her, you want anything.

When you know it's wrong, it's wrong. Even if they define the wrong themselves.

Even if all you wanted was what you had, but for a little longer.

If it's wrong, it's wrong. It's never going to work. Even when you know the wrong is wrong itself.
So you persevere.

The days pass, and she still lives a life you wish more than anything to be a part of. And while your heart breaks even more, more than a split in two, you begin to realize, you're better off. Somehow.

You deserve better, you deserve more. Whether it be someone who's there in the morning or a person to listen to the small thoughts that eat you inside, if they weren't there, they weren't enough. She wasn't enough. You begin to realize this now, because your friends have shown you how.

So you work through it. You persevere.

And in time you realize they weren't the goddess you believed them to be but a human with more flaws than you can count. Their smile shrinks and their belly grows and you begin to see their weaknesses in every way. But you can't hate them, not yet. You want to more than anything, but hatred is an easy out. It's too easy to count.

So you persevere.

And eventually you see them, truly, for who they are. Like you, like your friends, like the family you've grown to love, they are beautifully human. And while you may never wish to speak to them again, you understand they have a heartbeat, they are alive in the rhythm of life. And in that, you are the same. And your friends try to tell you you are better, but you cannot believe them, not any longer.

Your heart may never heal as it should, may never beat as fast as it did with them beside you. You long to kiss their lips, long to hold their hand. And when you see them with another man you feel the world is above you, looking down and laughing.

But you know all this, you've seen all this. You know it gets better, someday, somehow, when you least expect it. You hold your confidence and you hold your dignity. And you refrain from calling them names.

Then the sun rises at the end of the night and you think about all the good times you had, all the memories you shared, and all the memories you could have built together. You begin to tear up inside.

And you persevere.

I am warmhearted and icy cold,
with a pretty face that's getting old.
I am fragile yet tough as a man,
struggle thru life with no real plan.
I am petite and cuss like a trucker,
slightly naive, but I'm no sucker.
I am a sinner with a halo of gold,
an open book with secrets untold.
I am a hypocrite but always play fair,
a bleeding heart and I don't care.
I am a mother who acts like a child,
crazy, impatient and easily riled.
I am spontaneous and I am a bore,
forever forgiving, I still keep score.
I am unstable and wonderfully wise,
a ****** deviant in sweet disguise.
I am creative and self-destructive
naturally skilled and unproductive.
I am shy and I am outspoken
with a heart of glass, easily broken.
I am awkward and well refined,
lost, insightful and a little love-blind.
I am respected and I am addicted
shamed by burdens, self inflicted.
I am a perfectionist and I am a slob,
unbiased and shallow, an inept snob.
I am nocturnal, a creature of night,
blissfully ignorant, typically right.
I am cautious and I have no fear,
a loser and quitter, still I persevere.
I am brilliant and easily amused,
over-zealous and under-enthused.
I am impervious with wounds to heal,
a habitual liar just keepin' it real.
I am witty and weird and mean-
I am what I am.......100 Aileen.