From an early age,
I was told bad things
will always happen to people
especially to the good ones,
the ones that shouldn't be sad at all
and that life is half terrible
and half amazing moments
but I couldn't really understand why.
One day, my high school sweetheart
who had promised me eternity,
found someone more interesting to smile at
and completely forgot about me.
A year after, a neighbor
shot my dog to death
without any notice or warning
or a simple reason why
he took away my only companion.
When I was in college,
I made a new friend
whose name was Virginia
and everyone called her names
until she was raped by some guy
who was never punished.
Three years ago,
my loving mom passed away
with a huge smile on her face
as my father couldn't beat her
anymore.
But it was when I witnessed
your suicide -
You placed the gun in your mouth
and pulled the trigger
as if I didn't love you enough
to make you stay-
when I finally understood
that the good are the ones
who hurt the most.
