Loving him was not boring, however it was a struggle. Loving him meant fighting day in and day out over nothing. Loving him meant waking each day knowing that it may be the last, because that's how dead I felt. Loving him was a struggle because he made me a horrible person because of how he treated me. He broke me in ways I cannot explain. As well as destroyed my one and only soul with a single kiss to the lips and I cannot go back and I don't want to go back and act like it was nothing. because it wasn't nothing. it was something and it meant everything to me...once...