I’m in love. And I like how that feels. And I hate how that feels. Because love is an invention of fiction writers.
We kissed for about the thousandth time, No promises, no demands, Just solid rebuilding of shattered trust.
Six months since we met up again we are inseparable, an intricate weave. No longer do I believe this is a temporary fling. More like total commitment. More like I have walked down the aisle, holding hands with the monster.
But hey, I’m not exactly sold on the idea that love is, in fact, real. Will it find me one day, overtake me, infiltrate my life like sunlight snakes through the cold of morning? Can love thaw me? will it ever?
So you try to think of someone else you’re mad at, and the unavoidable answer pops into your little warped brain: everyone.
Afraid to Die Loveless Because I think if you die without knowing love in this life, that’s how you’ll spend eternity. Alone. Frozen.
Grown up? Me? I suppose I have. Killing things, and almost killing myself, must have changed me some, after all.
God i’ve missed you. I can’t wait to give you your present. He kisses me hotter this time, and beneath me, through his denim and mine. I can feel the promise of his Christmas gift soon to come.
One kiss, I was totally hooked.
The universe is a big place. If I was lost up there, how would you ever find me.
Clear. Cold. Empty. Like how I feel right now. Love is strange. One minute you’re jungle fever. The next you’re Artic winter.
That’s what I’ll be. A silhouette, rarely seen, and yet believed in. Kaeleigh wants to believe in me. I am her twin, forever alive inside her. And when she needs me, I am always here.
Would I ever find forever love? Do I really want to, when forever was a word without meaning?
Alone everything changes. Some might call it distorted reality but it’s exactly the place I need to be.
I feel like a goddess, jailed in her Olympus. Little wonder how the gods toyed with humans. Toyed with women, to watch them squirm, pollinate the seeds of despair; toyed with men, to satiate their Seven Deadly Sins.
Some people never find love at all, count yourself blessed if it ever happens your way.
Memory is a tenuous thing, like a rainbow’s end or a camera with a failing lens.
Either way, you are in charge. Jealousy works against you. It takes control away from you, hands it over to the opposition. Maintain control.
Grandma once told me it’s easy to overthink love, to dissect it and question it until it is no more.
Innocence eroded into nightmare. All because of very bad touch. Love, corrupted.
Life was good before I met the monster. After, life was great At least for a little while.