I can’t pretend to think my life, even my love life is worse than anyone else’s. I don’t usually go around complaining, except to my closest friends. I know I’ve had my heart broken a few times, and well, that sucks, but I guess life goes on, you know. But what bothers me more is the potential harm I’ve done on the other side, being the heart-breaker. It’s not something I ever set out to do, but I probably knew better. In the heat of the moment, for however brief it was, it was nice to pretend I was in love. But when it was over, all I could think of was how badly I wanted the real thing.