I thought of him, of the man I wasn’t allowed to think of, the one who I hated so very, very much and had ended up loving so deeply that the loss of him had destroyed me entirely. The memory of him was like a burn that wouldn’t heal, the pain of it constant and flaring into agony with little to no provocation. It stole my breath, stole my capacity to go on and it left me with nothing at all aside from the desire to douse the fire that had caused it before I headed into the flames myself and begged for them to end me too.
