44
I have never believed in true love or happy endings. They are not things that have ever existed in my world.
I have always believed in pain. In agony that cuts so deep, you fear your very soul will pour out of the wound and be lost to you forever.
That torment I know well. It is as familiar to me as the scent of the air after a storm.
But my soul has never poured out of me. Somehow, I have always woken up the next morning.
Mine is not a happy love story. But there is a monster to be slain, a multitude of demons that torment our land. As long as they steal innocent souls, at least I have a beast to battle.
That fight must be enough to keep me breathing.
