We both laid there on the linoleum for what felt like weeks. I'd imagine this came pretty close to how hell would feel. That feeling of hopeless despair and chaos. Things going wrong with no one to blame but us. I had a heart-to-heart with the Devil - or God, whoever might be out there listening, and asked him to take it back. We'd made a mistake, and we both knew it. We cried til we couldn't cry anymore. There comes a point when one is drained and void of emotions - numb to everything to keep from going insane. All the reasons why this wasn't good for us ran amok in my head. We weren't ready. We weren't prepared. Things would have to change. This would be the most important thing in our lives for the rest of our lives. What would our parents say? The rest of our lives had been decided for us because we let our desires and lusts get out of control. Weeks later we had begun to come to terms with the facts. It was going to happen whether we liked it or were ready...