Sex isn’t hard. It’s something engrained into our brains due to biological makeup. Opening up to someone; that’s the hard part. Allowing yourself to become vulnerable. Showing sides of weakness, always in hope that they will accept each layer that you shed of yourself. Until you are left with just an exposed core, longing for them to understand. Hoping that when you turn around, after all of this time, their core is exposed to. That you both are on the same level. But we live in a world where things are easier said than done. Lines get blurred, judgement gets passed, and one ends up contributing their whole being only to receive nothing in return. Devastation. Heartbreak. Late nights. Your mind then has to begin the process of healing, again. It seems this same cycle of happiness and love, to heart shattering sadness, to recovery, and all over again plagues everyone. Or at least yours truly. This evening begs the question into my mind, is it truly better to have loved and lost then to never have loved at all?