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It burned.
It scarred.
It seared into my heart.
I lashed out, slamming my fist into his chest and he accepted every blow, knowing he deserved it.
I wanted to hurt him.
I needed to hurt him.
But also, through it all…
I wanted to continue loving him with every last part inside of me.
When all of a sudden, he caught my wrists mid-strike, tugging me toward his body, holding me against his chest, against his heart. Against the agony and grief that would always live inside of him.
I broke down, losing all my strength.
To fight.
To cry.
To hate him.
I fell to the ground…
And he came with me.
