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She sleeps with her light on now because she’s scared; scared that one day she will love him again; Scared that if she lets him back into her life, he will hurt her again. It was never supposed to escalate, her feelings weren’t supposed to elevate to the level they went up. It all began with a kiss. And that’s all it was supposed to be, it was just a kiss. But his arms were so warm, so comforting to her at the time. And so she kissed him again, and again and again, all the way up to his house, and there he wrapped her in his comforting and warm arms, his bed seemed so welcoming, and she was so young, so foolish to fall in love with him. And so they made love to each other, caressed each other, held each other close to their bodies and filled each other with a definite pleasure, an ecstasy that no ordinary human touch can deliver. Drifting off to sleep, she looks up at him and whispers in his ear the three biggest words in the English language, “I love you.” And He looks down at her and kisses her, as they float off to sleep, wrapped in each other’s arms, wrapped in each other’s love. Or so she thought. She sleeps with her light on now because she was hurt. Waking up in the morning to see him pull up his hood and walk out the door killed her more effectively than any bullet, knife, or accident ever could. Watching as he got in his car and peeled off down the street made her shed tears that could overflow the oceans. So she sleeps with the light on now because she’s determined; determined not to love him again; determined to not let him hurt her again, and determined to never assume that there can be just one kiss. 
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