bed and breakfast in his spoon. +

I loved once, the kind of love you never recover from…. I thought until this very moment as I traced the lines of my scars that I was over it…. That was a lie. Its hard to type this right now, sweet salt water blocking my vision. I’ll never be over his deep glassed over blue eyes, his thin rail of a body, the cold of his touch on my cheek. You know, my friends they said the day he died he must have stayed with me, because I turned cold. It’s a funny thing about my hands, there almost always cold, they never were before him, before he left me here. I hate him for that, really I do. I hate him for loving his dragon more than he did me and I hate that he left me with that taste on the tip of my toung, I’ll be running my whole life. In all his flaws, he was so wonderful when he would look into my eyes and tell me, I believed every word of it to… he would tell me I was so perfect the was I was… he said he would love me forever. We swore it to the wind and he whispered it to the flame, and we danced it under the moon. We laughed it into the puddles we walked in late at night down pike st…. It was everything; he was everything I ever wanted. He loved me, because I was me…. He never judged me, he never wanted me to change unless I wanted to, and when I did he loved me just the same, always. I wonder if anyone will ever love me like that again.