I think it was when I met you (and I did know something some sort of pact did say yes—but after I don’t deserve you I don’t know, I’ve just got to hate myself first and second get better somehow) grief is just love with no place to go. It was when I first met you that I began carrying grief willing, unknowing first in my heart and then in my flesh and anywhere else I could stash it enough I just needed to’ve had enough of it (I think someone might always need to tell me when it’s enough)...