Justified.

We loved each other.

Sometimes it was messy, sometimes it made no sense, and sometimes it got in the way.

But it was always beautiful.

It always felt right in that little place in my lower belly where the butterflies lived.

I don’t care that it ended.

I don’t care that I have regrets.

I don’t care that I figured out we are not right for each other at all.

I don’t care that now your flaws stick out like a crying baby at a five star restaraunt.

What we had used to be magic, and that’s how I’m gong to think of it.