Out of your mouth came, “If we ever separate, show me that you love me by fighting for me.” But when I fought, you stormed out of the ring and took one of the judge’s seats, waiving your card with a list of all the wrong moves I made. You beat all the hope out of me, pulled back and shoved me away, only to hint that if I did not get up and endure, that I was not meant to be. I am willing to go through hell to reach heaven, but I am not willing to run to the hell that I want to be heaven.
