I fight for this: I do not regret caring, although I am hurt. One moment, I wish you never happened and the next, I wish it all over again. But now I just am and I do not want. Call it hysterical strength, but love -only love- makes me fearless, impenetrable.
Your feelings are real. Your happiness was real. Nothing and no one can take away from that, independent of what happens next. Like, that time when touch felt like music and gazes fell like syrup. Laughter erupted and swept across the room, a moving monsoon. Drenched in the warmth of the lamp (that smile too), you felt perfect, adored. You were. You were.