Infatuated. That’s how it began.

Desperate. That’s when it escalated.

Addicted. That’s what I’ve become.

Just when I think that I’ve discovered the one thing I wouldn’t do for Ebon, the one extreme to which I would not go, I find myself exceeding it. Looking back with regret, looking forward with dread, and living the now like it’s all I’ve got.

Because it is.

It’s pure bliss. It’s unimaginable hell. It’s all I know, all I want to know. A runaway train that I can’t stop. One that I don’t really want to stop.

But disaster is coming. It will turn sweet into bitter, deception into devastation. Perfection into wreckage.

Ruin. That’s what’s coming.

Ruin.