Nothing about love lasts forever. I’m no longer the same girl that looks at love like it’s rainbows and cotton candy. The shit hurts. It’s dark and messy as hell. I can’t allow that type of energy in my life. The four, pink walls that shield my heart are made of steel. I promised myself after Tyriek that I would never let love in again, but here that son of a bitch is banging on my heart’s door trying to push its way in. So I lay here, smoking a blunt, asking myself: Chyna, does your heart have room for one more?