Disgrace

by Brittainy C. Cherry

Love was a messy emotion that didn’t walk a straight line. It worked in waves and loops of ups and downs. It was a screwy emotion that could somehow still exist amidst the ultimate heartbreak and betrayal.

was nice to know that even when I felt alone, there was something bigger than me to believe in.

“People don’t need nice; they need the truth. I find it ridiculous that a guy has this kind of hold on you. Have some self-respect. It’s insane to give full control of your emotions to someone who doesn’t give a damn about you.”

“You don’t got to know what love is to know what it isn’t. Go ahead, though, keep crying over a dick who’s not even thinking of you. Trust me, princess, no number of tears from you is ever going to make him love you, but, by all means, keep crying. Hell if I care.”

“There’s nothing about this thing that makes me passionate. It’s a piece of shit. It’s seriously a piece of actual shit. If it were an animal’s shit, it would be a monkey’s. If it were a person’s shit, it would be yours. It’s the worst piece of shit that ever existed.”

“My parents taught me to zoom in, ya know? It’s easy to judge others from afar. It’s easy to look at someone from outside your world and make blanket statements and judgments on who those people are. Because when you see others’ flaws, you somewhat justify that your flaws are better than theirs. But when you zoom in, when you truly look at the person beside you, you’ll see many of the same things. Hope. Love. Fear. Anger. Once you zoom in, you realize we are all similar in so many ways. We all bleed red, and even monster’s hearts can break. Just gotta remember to always zoom in.”

“But watching him with that dog of his is the biggest turn-on in the world to me.” “His dog?”

“It’s an old black lab. You’ll see him in town with him. Just watch how he treats that dog, and you’ll realize more than just darkness lives in that boy.”

I loved my mother, but oftentimes, I wondered if I liked her. I wondered if she wasn’t my mom if I’d like her as a fellow human. Most signs pointed to no, but still, I loved her as the woman who gave me life even when she told me I needed Jesus’s help to fix my womb.

“Because you’re about to sin tonight.”

“It’s a strange thing, though,” she told me. “What is?” “When my Prince Charming is the rest of the world’s Beast.”

“Do you think broken hearts can be fixed?” “Yes,” I said matter-of-factly. “They just beat a little differently.”

In his darkness, I found my light.

“Nah, I don’t screw people who don’t fuck with Jon Snow.”

He grimaced. “I bet you crochet for fun.”

Maybe sometimes hearts have to skip in order to keep beating.”

“And princess, can you do one thing for me?” “Of course, anything.” I combed her hair behind her ears and looked straight into those beautiful blue eyes as I spoke her way. “If you ever fall in love again, please let it be with me.”

Because love—real love—didn’t mean always holding the same beliefs. It didn’t mean we had to see eye to eye on every subject. Yet what it did mean, what real love stood for was a mutual understanding. A respect for one another’s dreams and hopes and wishes and fears.