You dont recover from a kove like that. A love that strong. That fierce. You dont get over that. You just learn to tear it into tiny shreds and bury it so deep into your soul, hoping that it doesnt resurface. But it does. It is always there. It leaves dust on the tips of your fingers. And it hums. Ligntly. Constantly in the corners of your mind. It is always there. Faintly burning your skin as it rushes through the blood in your veins... it is always there.
