This story does not have a happy ending. The characters themselves, despite time and effort were equally frustrated, confused and scared by themselves and by one another more than they could begin to express. At times, they brought out the worst in each other, despicable and downright ignorant and at times, the best but usually, somewhere in the middle.

It is not a love story.

It is a journey, something with a beginning and an end and some (maybe) kind of life lesson crammed in among all the heartache. And oh, the heartache. It is a story all about the things they don't tell you about growing up nor about falling in love. Sometimes it works out and other times it doesn't but in between, it hurts and that's okay because sometimes the tough stuff won't relent until you're screaming. The good news is that you usually only have to learn a lesson once before you know it. It is the lover that never gets up in the middle of the night to leave. You will always have it in you once you're familiar Destiny. Fate. Or perhaps just life in general, never proceeds in a straight line. One must close their eyes and trust that each chapter will bring with it a new morning and a taste of air just sweet enough for growing hope in different places.

In the end, my darling reader, you cannot make homes out of people and someone should have told you that already but I will tell you again. Maybe damage just seeks out damage. After all, her mouth still tasted of his mouth months after he left her but she was too far away for any of it to matter anymore.

It is not a love story because it is something much more real. It was someone cleaning a week-old wound. She felt sick but she wanted more.