Begin to rewrite me

We were never in love. Him and I. We weren't in love according to Webster or to the Bible. Everyone had doubts. My mom told me I was going to fast. Kathleen told me to watch out. Others told me to just have fun, "shit you guys aren't married". I liked to believe that the problems we had weren't that big of a deal as does every person completely filled with whatever cupid's fucking arrows hold. It's almost as if a sheet is cast over your being and your only able to see and think and feel what love wants you to see and think and feel. It's not fair.