Tearing

     I wonder, does anyone else get torn and twisted between your own morals and those of others? You think something's okay, and then I think it's not, but you feel bad about it and I love you so I try to move past it, even though it will always live in the back of my mind. Seven is a number I will not forget anytime soon. Every time you touch me. Seven others. Every time you kiss me. Seven. Every time you grin at me, seven, seven, seven. Please let it stop. Please make it get easier as time goes on. I love you, so I cannot leave. I love you, so I accept your mistakes. 

    Why is it so hard to accept? I keep trying to tell myself, it's just my generation. Seven isn't even half as bad as most, but I don't look at things like most people my age tend to. I know they were before me, or rather in between, before now and after then, but I feel as though I have been cheated on, betrayed, and lied to. I shouldn't have asked to know. I should've left myself in ignorance. I would feel better than I do now. I wouldn't now have an overwhelming sense of guilt. You were right.

-Ava