I think the worst part in the process of losing someone isn't the sad part. It is the part of thinking about it over and over again. Maybe I knew that we weren't supposed to be together. Maybe the words I'd put on my diary were correct but my heart didn't accept it.
I was always the kind of girl who had one particularly way to see the world. Maybe that particularly wasn't useful to him. "We were born with nothing and we sure as hell have nothing now" were the words that you reminded me to use on our fire. And I remembered that him didn't believe that we were able to stay as we were because he knew everything from that point would change.
Now I know that we started this war.
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