When I am in my bed, covers drawn blinds open, the light from the night post shines straight into my eyes. April has long become a formative month for me, I suppose that is why so many nights I find myself staring aimlessly into the night post. Endings and beginnings circle 'round.
As I look back, I realize that in my 25 years I've learned so much about what love is not. It's short comings, it's inadequacies. Some of the most beautiful things come from the most terrible lies. This I know, that there are as many types of love as there are human hearts that beat.