Every time he hurts you there is just enough forgiveness and making up to fill the time between this betrayal and the next. There is always a next. And you think that by forgiving him you’re breaking new ground, you’re getting to a part of him no one else ever has and so you dig through dirt hoping you might uncover an artifact that will be worth the past couple years of your life. He has swallowed you whole and you swim around in the word vomit while picking out the words and phrases you like most; only focusing on the ones that make it hurt a little less to know that this is the kind of love you think you deserve. You’re drowning. You fill your pockets with the bullshit that comes out of his mouth and you look up from the ocean floor wondering how you got here. He says this is the best he’s got and you decide it’s not so bad holding your breath as he tells you how beautiful you are when you’re blue in the face.