After months of silence, here she stands on my front porch, waiting to be let in again. But it's the same play every time, and I know how this ends–I give her all I have and she carries it with her on the way back to him.
I should turn her away, but I won't. Couldn't do it if I tried.
Because no matter how many times she pops back up, pulls me in and drags me under, it will never be enough. I'll always want more. More of her. More for us.
And she'll always choose him.
Contains mature themes.