the memory of choosing not to fight

it was the look in her eyes. it was the butterflies. it was the music, the moment, the magic, the knowledge that i'd never consciously chosen to NOT go down fighting before. it's the fact that i can be a downright stubborn bitch when i want to be and now i want to be.

the lows are so low; but the highs, love, are very, very high.

i'm going to try.