I used to be in love. It was not just any kind of love, but the kind that you do not come across more than a handful of times in your life. The kind of love that makes you smile when you are sad and find the good in the most evil of things. It was a love so big and high that nobody could ever reach it and destroy it, until one day, when it just vanished. It was more than just a disappearance, but an alteration of life. It was like an explosion of emotions and an earthquake of lies that destroyed everything in its path, which just so happened to be me. It sucked the life and happiness out of me, and left me on the ground, gasping for air, as if my very being was being extracted from my body. I could not breathe. I was left feeling empty, worthless, and betrayed. I just did not understand. How could a love so pure and true end up to be one immense, tragic lie?