It hurts to try and retaliate, if that's even what it is I'd be doing. Does it change what it's called or make it less ugly once we decide it's what has to be done? There's no other way? Even if we and everyone we know can justify it one thousand times over, does that make it any less of what it is?
It hurts to look back and divide the times into befores and afters. Oh, remember this moment, or this day, before things fell apart, before everything was a mess. And maybe it's easier on the heart to try and remember mostly good, to powder things down and dress them up and fit them into boxes with pretty labels, even when they don't belong. Because otherwise doesn't it seem more useless, or worthless, like we fought and suffered and maybe it was really for nothing?
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