The smile he gave me when he first said ‘I love you,’ was different from the one he gave me when Amanda held his hands while I was still holding it. It was a smile that called me foolish, a smile that mocked me, a smile that conceited his love for another woman.

He is Achuno, the man who stole my heart and dumped it in his box of worn out tools. The same man that hugged me when my smiles were bright and I called it love. The same man who walked away when my smiles were a slight frown and I called it love.

When I think of Achuno, I do not understand love. When I think of Achuno, I shield my heart from other invaders. He is not love, and as I walk away to find out what love truly is, I find it and it makes me shiver, my heart feels it, my heart wants it, but my mind asks: what if this is another Achuno?