Love is not always right.

Not in the sense that certain kinds of love; heterosexual, homosexual, etc. are wrong—No, nothing like that.

Love is not always right in the sense that sometimes it’s not real love at all. Sometimes it is toxic and dark, and your feelings will cling to it no matter what reason presents because you want that love.

It will take you by surprise when the affection mixes with irritation; how it can become a chore.

Or how the passion can become forced, two actors trying to play the same part with only a blank script to share between them. The ghosts of the words linger there but you can’t read them anymore. Still, you will pretend you can. You will act.

And when tenderness becomes impatient—when every gentle fingertip across your skin has a buzz of annoyance charged behind it that’s when you’ll know it’s wrong. Perhaps you’ll know way sooner and choose not to act on it. Rather, you will choose to act.

You’ll continue to play this part in a play with no plot. Because you want so badly to be the characters you were when you started out.

And God, please don’t blame yourself. Don’t force yourself through that. If someone you love only loved you in the beginning, then they never really loved you at all.

And that’s not your fault.

It’s not your story to save.

Let it end. Move on, there are people who love correctly. You won’t have to fight like this forever, trust me.

Love is not always right, and it’s not always your fault.