The idea of love has become tarnished. You crafted your each and every movement and word so that it could replicate perfection. Your relationship became your art. You gave so much of yourself that all you had left was him. 

You tried to become masterful in creating an untainted love. You used all of the passion and fire that you had left to execute a masterpiece, but the paint began to dry out. The brushes became worn. What once was a love bursting with desire and devotion transformed into a thing of routine and comfort. Distaste and resentment were bred.  

But still you tried. You tried using new tools. You tried finding new functions for old tools. You worked, and you worked, and you worked-- but the art just didn’t feel right. You put your heart and soul into amending something that wouldn’t budge. And even if you did fix it, it would never be the same. 

For the woman who gave her all, I applaud you. You tried to do handstands for a man who made you fall each time. 

For the woman who gave her all, I also scold you. You weren’t placed on this earth to fix a man that has made a life of being broken. You weren’t created to deal out acceptances for every apology that was thrown your way. You could try to fix and fix and fix, but what will happen when you break? What will happen when you run out of energy and can no longer help yourself? 

Protect your heart, soul, and light. 
Why are you fixing a house that you can't even live in? 

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