Love has a twisted sense of humour, a word that brings to mind, flowers, jittery happiness and floating red hearts. In reality love spreads sorrow like a disease, addictive as a drug we all crawl back broken, shattered, with our tear-streaked eyes begging for more, begging to get our high! We all get addicted to this certain way of love, the painful one, that has now become a part of our reality we cannot deny if want to. That sweet sorrow, the beautiful pain, the euphoric agony. We spend the better part of our adult years in this corrupted game with no rules. We spend the better part of lives in desperate search of that mesmerising love. and when we find it we have no idea what to do with it. We throw it to the ground and trample all over it, we brake it in pieces and destroy it stripping it of every last part of its young innocence, we make each other bleed, twisting and turning the knife in each others wounds, then we throw salt on them and let them burn, let that seething pain shoot through our veins making us feel alive. and only then, when we are on the ground in mind-numbing agony, crying until our tears dry out and there is all but a hollowness in our chest, only then do we call it LOVE. That four little letter word, so powerful, it makes people drink their livers useless and throw themselves of buildings.
It makes you wonder doesn' t it? Why we put up with and create so much pain when all it does is ruin us, breaks us into a million little pieces, that never stick back together again. Why do you put up with it my dear? Why do you let a man ruin your life over and over again? After years of this constant psychological abuse? Why have you come to depend on someone who always lets you down?
It's like, we get hooked solely on those who hurt us, never the ones who make us happy, with that constant excuse 'but I love him/her' . What makes us think that love is enough? What makes us hang on to threads of hope for dear life, throwing ourselves in the gutter again and again trying to please the most ungrateful beings in our lives. Why can we never fall for the right ones, for the sweet ones, for the good ones? Einstein said, ' The definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again expecting a different outcome' , so we must all be insane, pumped with pills and locked away, where we can do no further harm to ourselves!
Love, why do we all keep searching for it? It will come when it may. Why do we get so obsessed over it, when all it does is mess us up. There will always be other people, there will always be more pain, there will always be more happiness! So why do we insist on the dark abyss when we can have lightness, no one knows! Such a weird species we are, we settle for the worst when we can have the best!
Nothing in life comes easy, you have to fight for it, strive for it. It's good to fight for what you want, it shows strength and character, but shouldn't there be a limit? There is a time when you know, enough is enough, there is nothing more to be done, to be said. There comes a time for a grand finale, where you should walk out with your head held high, not grovel on the ground begging for more. Hard limits. It takes strength to stay and fight, but you're braver if you find the strength to walk away. Breath in the freedom, can't you just smell the possibilities in the air?
Love will come when it way. Finding it isn't hard, letting go, is the hardest lesson of all. But in the end, it's worth the pain.
Love has twisted sense of humour, you just have to find a way to laugh!