He loved me like someone repeatably stabbing me in the heart and then kissing me like everything would be okay. I’d cry sometimes, and like a junkie I’d come back screaming, “I can fix this.” As an optimist, I sure don’t know when to give up.

Love is the strongest narcotic and the only rehab is to stop loving for a while…
Sometimes I question who I could’ve loved if it wasn’t for him and his ways and his hold he held on my heart for nearly a decade. Our love could give Days of Our Lives a run for their money in the drama department. I was never one for drama. Sometimes I felt like I had enough love for the both of us but that’s not how relationships work.

He loved me like someone pushing me off a cliff and then grasping my hand before I could completely fall of the edge as if he wasn’t the one to push me.