I assumed love the second time around would be better. Or the third…hell, I thought everything was going to be better.
Sad realization seeps in that maybe I am going to be alone for a very long time, that maybe I am not for another.
I thought I met someone who supported me.
Both chasing dreams.
He never once discouraged me.
Or said stop.
Yet, it’s this very reason why he just left me.
This very reason I am trying to work but have to articulate a couple of sentences to mark the date.
To add to the rest of stories that I hold.
That’s all we are right?