I always thought that Love would come to me wearing a suit and tie, holding roses, smiling from ear-to-ear, pushing his hair back shyly to ask me to be his girlfriend. I always thought that Love would leave a basket full of chocolate-dipped strawberries at my door whenever we have a petty argument. I always thought that Love would smell like vanilla everyday, because he knows it's my favorite scent. I always thought that Love would always try to impress me with his quirky facts and his secret stamp collection that he hides from his friends. I always thought that Love could cuddle with me in bed all day, rubbing his nose on my face as I try to fall in a blissful sleep, knowing he's beside me.

But, Love came to me, hiding cowardly behind a text message, asking me to be his girlfriend. Love would force me to apologize for something I did not do, Love could last days without uttering a word to me, not unless I admit my mistakes. Love smelled like beer and cigarettes, even thought Love knew I hated him for consuming such toxic things. Why would he let these things destroy him when he knows very well that I want to preserve whatever beauty he had left? Love never listened. Love never wanted to do what I thought was best for him. Love stopped trying to impress me when I said yes to him on the 23rd of June. He would come to our dates dressed in a white shirt, worn-out shorts and flip-flops. Love would tell me how many cigarettes he had smoked, how many bottles he had drunk, and how many failing marks he had in his university. Maybe Love wanted me to cure him, maybe Love was trying to tell me it's impossible to fix someone as broken as him. Love would force me to stay up with him over the phone, as he drunk his way to sleep, leaving me hanging to whatever knives and daggers his mouth has released.