For a while, I'd like something set in concrete.
Something I don't have to doubt, wonder and question.

The sky is the dullest shade of grey right now and there isn't a single ounce of sunshine. It's raining hard. I love it when it's raining and I look out the window and the rain just covers everything in this haze. No one's out and about, unless their underneath coloured umbrellas. Everyone's inside, safe and staring out their windows at the rain. They're unwilling to step outside.

Sometimes I really wonder if you're really over the people in your past. I remember the bitter hurt in your voice when you first spoke of them to me. You didn't know it at the time, but I promised myself I'd be different. I wouldn't hurt you like they did.

Maybe we're both haunted by dead loves.

Why can't humans just meet and fall in love with their soulmates right away? First you meet someone and you think there might be something there. Their words, their voice, the sight of them. It makes you believe in something, a possibility. But you're not sure just yet so you hold back a little. You guard your heart in case they turn out to be monsters just after your flesh. Conversations go on. You notice small things, like the way he looks at you or how your heartbeat speeds when he moves a little too close. He's drawing you in closer, pulling you into him and making you want more. Finally, your walls cave in and you're without any protection at all. He closes in, wraps his arms around you and tells you he would never hurt you. You believe him, every single word. He reaches in and takes your heart. It feels nice and your walls stay down. You're finally happy.

But it doesn't end there.
The story isn't over.

When things start to go bad, you're forced to go through the entire process again.
You end up with a set of people that you never talk to anymore.
They fucked you over, and you threw a few punches too.
All that's left are empty husks of them, kept alive in your mind solely by your memories.