Sometimes, I think it was all useless.
Sometimes, I think loving is useless; that life, is useless. Because inevitable endings always shatter me, and then even existing hurts, because the internal shards that are left behind always almost kill me. But they can never kill me enough, never finally let me go.
It's a bit like striking a match, isn't it? - the charging tension, building up to the burn, and then the sudden flush of flame, bright and flaring. Then it dies down, goes away.
And all the fragile, broken stars in the universe could never have kept us together.