Is two really better than one?

I think love died the moment jealousy set in. Yet I can’t help but wonder if it really did. Amidst the trouble and confusion, I feel like I’ve grown. We’ve grown, separately. That’s a good thing, right? Being able to grow separately? I still think love is nowhere to be found in my heart now, ever since all the shit started happening. I know what love is and it is not any of the following things I did and feel. The question is, what is this now?


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