The duke, the good boi, the good girl and the little maple leaf

 I am trying to be brave and look back on the love story that has chipped my tooth and has left a constant taste of blood in my mouth. 

A taste that is still oddly sweet but is lace with an ache and sadness that haunts and has paralyzed me. 

I built a little cabin in the woods to protect, recover, hide, heal and lock away the loss and sadness I can’t run from. 

I couldn’t until recently even look and the evidence of us. Every morsel persevered and untouched. Today I felt brave and decided I would try to be an investigator of the beauty and carnage that seeped into us. The story of us. 

So far it is exquisitely beautiful, haunting, sweet, rough, thirsty, needed, true, romantic, lustful, kind, hopeful, sweet and wonderfully imperfect. 

The persistent ache. 

I wonder if my bravery will last and what clues I might find.