I don’t think we even begin to understand love until we’ve lost the one we thought we’d spend the rest of our life with. I don’t think we begin to understand ourselves until we realize that it’s most likely our fault. And I don’t think we begin to understand life until we understand it comes in so many shades of gray. You can be a good person and still do irrevocable harm. Life is messy, so fucking messy. I hate it. Or maybe I hate myself. I thought for a long time I hated him. But I can’t hate Iris. No matter how much he hurts, I still carry this little fucking wish in the depths of my soul that one day he’ll forgive me and admit he still loves me. Part of life is living with the burden of what I’ve done and waiting for a day that will never come. This is that life. We all come out Pretty F*cked.