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Humans were the most pitifully willing prey. Too many of them lived such constrained lives, binding themselves to moralities that only served to limit their enjoyment of their short mortal existence.
“You’re a light in the dark, and I’ve been in the dark a very long time.”
Breakups were easy, too easy. Because they needed space, because it just wasn’t working, because I was moving, because I was too much. But commitment? To belong? To be really and truly wanted? That was hard.
Humans weren’t good at forever. We weren’t built for forever.
Love. What an awful, beautiful, terrifying word.
Dangerous fantasies felt cathartic when there were so many real things to be afraid of.
I wanted to hold her again. I didn’t want her to have to fight. I wanted her safe, protected, mine.
I’ll rip Heaven and Hell and this goddamn Earth apart before I let them steal you from me.”
Dying for love didn’t hurt any less; it probably hurt more. But I felt better than I thought I would.
