The say tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all. Those who say this clearly never lost, were clearly never betrayed but then, I have to agree with them on one count though – tis better to have loved and lost.
As I look at her picture, the flashes of memories tug at my heart and I can feel the love that I once felt slowly stew and burn and turn into rage and bitter bitter revenge.. It has been a very slow process and it has been months, but there was a lot of love to turn into bitter rage.
I could still taste the bile in my mouth – I don’t know how Acacius manages to keep drinking that stuff as it was water. I’ve thrown up more of that stuff today that he drinks in an hour. It actually tastes worse coming back up than it does going down and that is quite a feat.