three years later.

after your coming to my house in the morning to find bite marks on my neck and leaving me with your hand print on my face. after not giving me my ximena sariñana tickets. after fighting for a week straight. it was around this time, three years ago that all that ugly shit went down. it was today, three years ago that you told me you never wanted to see me again. three years later, here we are again. what will become of us, my wonderful m love? what will become of us?