We’ve battled with this ending from the beginning. I took on potential as purpose, leaving myself with neither in the end. I refused to recognize it. Don’t take this realization as a critique. We’re staying still as the emotions move throughout our days. One day, I want to try. The next, I’d rather take the pieces of my heart and pierce them back together.

When did I stop being the rose in your thorns? When did the petals of our entanglement wither up? How could my soul die in something that was so beautiful? When did time get so ahead of us, that we’ve forgotten to guide ourselves through it? The good days no longer hold space for the bad ones. The prayers no longer feel heard. The love no longer lasts in a discernible feeling.

What's the next step when you don't want to leave, but you can't stay? We’ve all told ourselves, that will never be me. I’ll never end up in that circumstance like they did. You were the joke all along. The exception of trying was the beginning solution. The warning signs from the start do become the reason for its un-being.

You settled for a different genuineness since it didn't hurt. It didn't feel like gasoline, but propane has a slow burn, too. Purity-based intentions became a plaything for the enemy to manipulate. Now, I can't tell whose side they’re on.

It’s possible you're what she needed then and not what she craves now. It’s possible you've forgotten how to love her and you've chosen to let her go. Two paths entangled by the passing of time. We stared into the souls of our trauma and became the healer. Are we at the end of this prologue?