We fell in love. We lived together, loved each other, fought like animals and broke up. It wasn’t over for me and I wonder if it’s over for him. I love with every part of my being, sometimes trying to fill the void with vices. And for me falling in love is a vice. I recently read an article that discussed falling in love when you’re ready as opposed to when you’re desperate. I’m at fault for the latter. As much as I wish I could apologize to every man or boy I’ve ever hurt because of this, I can’t, because it’s not something I know how to do. I love him though. I have for two years and I feel like I will for twenty more. It hurts more than it makes me happy. Why do we long for compassion so strongly? Why can’t we be happy just being ourselves? Maybe it’s the flaws in us that draws us to others. His flaws fit with mine like peanut butter to jelly. So, will it work out? Is he my Prince Charming? Who the hell knows. But I love him all the same.