It's hard, you know? Knowing when to give up. I love him. He loves me. That should be enough, right? Well, October Second is 3 years. I'm 24. I'm getting to a point where in a year or so I'd like to be seriously concidering marriage. I could see it being with him. But I don't know. He's hurt me. A lot. We're healing. We took a huge step and moved out on our own together. But we fight. A lot. Or sometimes not at all. It's like we go through these phases. The kind where you're so miserable you can barely keep yourself from sobbing uncontrollably and then you're walking six feet off the ground because you're so happy. He's told me he loves me more and more. And that he loves me more than he's ever loved anyone. He's told me he's not in love with me. He's also told me he's never been in love and he's not sure if he's capable of it at this point. What if he's not? What if he never is? What if he is he's just not capable of being in love with me. I can't. I can't. But I do. I stay. Because I am in love. And that's the worst part. Because the people who you love the most are the people who can cause the most damage.