We walk through those heavy black front doors I’ve kissed her up against a million times and I can’t help it—what this house does to me—I’ve loved her in every corner of it. Undressed her in every room. The house turns me to fucking mush. Nostalgia on steroids with a shit-ton of oxytocin whenever I stand in this foyer—a lifetime worth of memories watching her walk down this curving marble staircase, heart in my throat, her in my hands… Loving someone like I love her fucks you up a bit. Fucking up how I fucked up also fucks you up a bit.
