3. an entry describing some sort of affliction
caleb didn't do much in the weeks that passed.
he laid in bed, and only got up when i bought
him stupid comedies that weren't actually funny.
even then, he usually cut the movie off halfway
through, claming that even his passion didn't
calm his raging heartbreak. then again, i didn't
do much either. i just watched after caleb, hoping
he wouldn't spiral deeper into the dark abyss of
depression, but when i started finding poetry under
his bed i knew it would take a hell of a lot more than
stupid movies, and his favorite foods to make him
happy again.
love doesn't make us wise, and kind.
it makes us cold, and foolish
love is a myth that children are brought
up on. the kid who wants to fall in love
is the same child whose parents liked to
swing blows back and forth at eachother
with their words.
