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Summary
The heart is a complicated thing. You tore mine up and I still allowed you to pick up the pieces, even after all this time.
I am only human. Maybe that is a weak argument for letting myself be apart of, as my niece would put it, an 'enemies to lovers' trope. But, I believe now, more than ever, that Bill is only human. I want the reader to see that, that we all have within us the ability to change, to grow, to heal. You've shown me that, Bill, in ways I could've never found myself.
You are no longer my god, my muse. You are something so much deeper, so much more grounded than that. Human.
Series
- Part 1 of Journal #4