Love. What is it? Is it a sacrifice, a protection, an empathy, care, forgiveness, honesty... What is it? Maybe all I ever wanted was love, and yet maybe I could never see it around me. Expecting affection from places not worth expecting, yet overlooking what's already have been around me is a common phenomena we all do. But the pain of a requited love is so big and the mistake bigger than that, that maybe I forgot what love is all about. That love doesn't reside in those small sweet words but rather felt in actions, in all those nouns affore mentioned. Yet, we rely on those sweet words, we yearn for them to make promises. And sometimes even if we know those promises will be broken.
As much as I yearn for love, I'm also scared of it. I'm scared that I will loose what I love. I have been scared, always, that things are never "a forever", whether it was promised or not. But this simple thing is so hard to understand. Somethings stay for a short time, some other things stay a little longer. But nothing stays forever. Still, we promise a lifetime. But till we know, when that moment is going to come, we take it for granted that it is going to stay always. And sometimes, we are so scared about it's leaving that it's always in our conscience even when it's still there with us.
Of randomized thoughts on interspersed vacancies, it started to hit me that my love might be poisonous. That it may be so claustrophobic that it may slowly kill someone until they break away. To save you the over dramatic nature of the sentence, all I mean to say is, I'm not sure I will ever be able to love and be loved back, for whatever love means, without being scared of loosing it. I tried to fix myself, by understanding, patience, mental business, but it seems I don't seem to wrap my head around the fact that the one who is to stay will stay, until it's time to leave. Beautiful versions of this mind stays only till the negativities don't hit, and those points of time the heart takes over the head, loud enough to turn everything poisonous, and ending up almost choking the thing that is loved.
Maybe that isn't love at all. Maybe, the scare of losing what once loved, had moved to a position of wanting something else which neared a proposition of a similar feeling even before it was love.
So, I gave up. I gave up on binding anything I love to myself. I gave up on any idea of chaining myself to the object of love and any commitment hereafter made because of the boundaries. Love isn't depended on boudaries or commitments, a mistake mosty made nowadays. To love, doesn't mean to show, and doesn't need any promises. Love is going to stay, even if the object of love stays or not. Love, if there's a thing, should be simple, should always remind us why we love it. And maybe, it's true when said, if you love, let it go.
