We stood in the banquet hall, making eyes back and forth. Everyone was leaving and there was fewer and fewer of us until it was just the two of us. The air started to feel thick, like someone opened a bag of flour and put it into the vents. We weren't speaking, but our eyes were deep in conversation. We'd done this before, make up, kiss, hug, fuck, go nowhere. It was a cycle I was done with. I just wanted love. It was never about what I wanted.

"My cabs here…" And with that, gone. I was alone standing there, over-reading the situation. Nothing would be the same, it was over. Really over.

Love isn't one of those things that comes east, if it was no one would want it. You need to fuck up, do some shit wrong before you do something right.

The next day I woke up and felt like I had swallowed rocks. The hardest thing to do after your world falls apart is wake up the next day and realize it wasn't a dream. Your world is in ruins and you start from scratch again.