97 Days.

I truly thought I knew what it meant. Love opened the door, left it open a crack. Slid in quietly, gently. But aggresively and unforgiving. Demanded my attention and affection for over eighteen months. I thought I understood it, the meaning and value. I thought it was strong and sturdy. I thought it was forever. And ever. And ever. Ever not. It ended quickly, like it had started. It changed minds, it changed towns, it changed. The door slammed shut. It left me as alone as it began. Wait three months, one tattoo, and one haircut later. Love opened the door yet again. He had been there all along, in the back of the room. With a crossword puzzle, a fauxhawk, And a jilted heart himself. Love looked different this time, Had a kinder heart, a forgiving soul. Love liked different restaurants; Love drank iced coffee. Love snored in his sleep but always made sure I was warm. Love played Richard Marx but would teach me when he was finished. Love loved me, and that was all that mattered. The door slammed shut, but love and I were on the other side. Together, Never apart.