Do you remember…when you thought you found ”The One?”
The One you wrote poems about at 3am because the butterflies kept you from sleeping. And eating. And all other human functions that disappear when infatuation invades your body. You didn’t even poop for three weeks.
The One you’d have sliced off a limb for, if only to spend an hour by her side. After all, who needed a left leg when her head was forever resting in the crook of your arm?… Keep reading