I have realized I need to grow the ******** up - feeling in love has a certain obligation to seem as an Utopia. Filled with so-called-butterflies and romantic kisses. But actually, even if the same love is being returned to you just the same, your body may feel termites instead of those lovely fying creatures.
Love is a decision, not only a feeling. Love means growing up and forgetting about the endless sunser walks. Love sometimes means shaking on a bus station while you feel like a part of you just ran off and got hit by a car infront of you.
Love means walking somewhere even if there is no hope, even if you know you are probably only meeting your own self on the place you are walking to. Love can mean hurting so ******** much you can feel your tears all of the sudden while you are writing about compromise and making yourself unhappy for the happiness of other.
There is no doubt I love. There is only one question left, love should be so clear, so clean, so beautiful and soft - so why are my hands full of cuts and my lips sometimes bleed a lot ?
 Defecting · Thu Jul 24, 2014 @ 07:35pm · 1 Comments |
