Two Broken Halves

Even after all the harsh words, he's still the one. She loathes it. She doesn't want to feel for someone who can so easily be that way with her. The insults, the jabs… it isn't healthy. It isn't right.

But then, it isn't like she's not responding in kind. She gives as he does. Her responses roll off her tongue like flowing honey.

Maybe they're built for each other. Two broken halves, to be forced upon each other. Their jagged edges may never quite fit right, may never heal, but it's a better fit than anything else has been for either of them. It's the best fit they can hope for.

So, what's a few harsh words, really?

Just another splinter to stick out from the jagged edge. Just another string of words to let loose into the world. None of it matters anyway.