There was a time when I was a naive little girl. Someone who believed in fairytales and happy ever afters. I remember dreaming of a big, romantic wedding before I was the age of six. I was infatuated with the idea of being married. My white wedding dress is nothing but a sheer memory trapped in my adolescence mind, now. Love had always been a long, lost dream of mine.
Until I met him.
He lit up my world like the Fourth of July at Kaboom Town. The mornings felt a lot sweeter, the nights drew themselves to be longer. We were two peas in a pod inseparable by god himself.
Or so I thought.
Life wasn't always sunshine and rainbows... he taught me that.
Love wasn't always going to be monogamous. And honesty wasn't always going to be a virtue... he taught me that.
Love was a shipwreck waiting to go down in peril.
There was always chaos and unknown dangers waiting up ahead. As if we didn't have enough hail and s**t storm brewing above us.
We were destined to be cursed.
Destined to be broken.
Because doesn't the saying go,
You never forget your first.