She always seemed to fall in love with hopeless things, hopeless ideas. It hurt, oh, it hurt. Every single time like putting a blade to her skin but in the same way it was soothing. She temporarily found peace until it fell apart. She was always waiting for the disaster, the storm after the calm. She fell in love again and again.
Again and again.
Again and again.

Even platonically. Even friendships died, even friendships could be hopeless things. She started wondering a while ago that there was something wrong with her, but what?
What’s wrong.
Wrong with her.

After a little while she learned acceptance that something was wrong with her but she needed that temporary peace so that her own storm seemed to calm. Her storm was still there, it never ends. Her storm never ends but at least it can feel okay.
Okay for at least a couple minutes.
She fell in love with hopeless things, ideas. Or were they falling for her and she couldn’t let go and fell with it.
Crashing.
Crashing and burning.
Destruction or self destruction every time. She needed love. She craved affection, attention. Even temporary. Even wrong. Even harmful. Even

Hopeless