Why did I think romantic love had to be hard and painful to be real? Was it from watching my parents as a kid? Was that idea reinforced after watching my sister, Chiara, go through her painful divorce? Well, now I see. True love can be easy and natural and right, like it’s written in the stars. Like it’s always been with Amy. My whole life, the harder someone’s love felt to attain, the more I wanted it. Perhaps, I wanted to prove I wasn’t a quitter. Or that I was worthy. But now, suddenly, I realize love has always been so fucking hard for me, as far back as my teens, because I was never with
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Duh...he finally gets it. Love should be easy
