She talked about him with such passion. As if he was a god among men and she worshipped him like no other.

She always told me that she loved those women who adored and worshipped their man. And how she waned to be like them. But she also knew, somewhere deepdown in her core, that she never could do that. I made her see that. I always told her that in order to be able to worship anything, you have to be able to forgive it's mistakes.

She never could forgive anything!

Sometimes I miss her and think of the days we spent and the days we could have spent if she would just have forgiven my little mistakes. But she couldn't and I respect that. I will for always worship her for that. Atleast worship the idea of her!