It was sweet and sour and bitter and loving.
It was painful and hard and absolutely breathtaking.
It was gut-wrenching and toxic and heartbreaking, always.
It was terribly beautiful, and all-consuming, and truly wonderful, wasn’t it?
It was loud, and there were broken pieces of us on the floor, bleeding with love.
It was caring, and there were notes left on the door about late-night plans or early breakfasts.
It was family, and there was so much room for love and fire that both poured out onto the floor, mingling with the blood and shards of glass.
It was beautiful and broken and all we knew, and for a while it was enough.
My eyes were screaming with the heart and hurt that my tears couldn’t shed for you.
Bags packed and at the door, my soul begged, pleaded, cried to stay with you.
But my body drove me to the car, broken heart and all, baggage in tow.
Because I love you, always.
But,
I don’t very much like you anymore.