Monday
Do you know what hell is?
I do.
It's not fire and brimstone. Not for me anyway.
It's watching your hopes die.
It's watching the guy you love-the guy who makes you understand why that poop sucker built the Taj Mahal, why Juliet buried a dagger in her chest, why that Trojan king destroyed his entire fleet-making love to another girl. A girl you despise.
It's seeing your father-a man you believed was a superhero-for the first time after five long years only to discover he was a dishonorable creep show all along.
Hell is experiencing both of those things in one night. Hell is the way the ceiling looks above your bed when you open your eyes the next morning. Hell is the morning after that, when the ceiling looks just as hopeless, and you realize the pain hasn't begun to fade and that maybe it never will.
That is hell.
What is heaven?
I don't know.
I had an idea about it a couple of days ago, but that was before hope died.
If you happen to find out, will you let me know?
Tuesday
Wednesday
Thursday
Friday
