Three days ago on April 26th, I lost the love of my life.
I lost him to drugs. His body is not dead. But the man I fell in love with is not there anymore. Well, he is. But the drugs and his depression have made him sink so low, he doesn't know how to love me anymore.
So I broke off our engagement. I told him I would take him back if he turned his life around... but it will take a long time. He has to get off the drugs. And even then... will he still love me?
It will take me a while before I can return to writing "The Many Meanings of Love". I just... can't right now. I cannot say when I will be ready to return to that subject, but right now it just hurts too much. Thank you for understanding.
Today is my nineteenth birthday, and I have never had a worse day. A day where by default I am supposed to be happy, but all I want to do is curl up and cry.
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