It was the mention

of

aftercare 

practices

that finally

does my head in.

Practices so

tender and

even

heartwrenching,

that I’d just

experienced for

the first time,

lapping them up

unashamedly,

only to fall

back to earth

hard and fast;

unsteady, disorientated, sad.

These were

not our special

things,

contrary to what

my naive, trusting

heart

had been telling

me.

No. They were

practices.

There were protocols,

ways of doing.

Even with

random strangers.

Where exactly

the near-instant

jealousy, rage and anger 

springs from,

I have no idea.

So this is love.

And I should 

have known better.

I live by the truth:

never

ask a question that

you don’t

want to know

the answer to.

And I had done

exactly that,

setting up my own trap

so beautifully.

Yet here I was,

suddenly surprised

at the fierceness

of the steel teeth

of this hunter’s trap,

so deeply embedded

that the blood

is gushing out, uncontrollably.

So what does Lu do

next?

As I write this

I have no

clear idea, and instead

cling to this paper

and its lifeline to my soul.

~Lu