People don’t die from love, but love dies at the hands of people. And when you’ve been loved multiple times, but haven’t returned the feeling, eventually you’ll fall in love with someone with the passion and intensity of all those times,…but he won’t even love you 1/hundredth back. He’ll rape your heart and you’ll love him [even] more for it. The problem is that love, as cruel and twisted as it may be, rarely follows the laws of common sense – you just have to let it be, outlive it and outgrow it. Once you reach a point where you no longer wish to be happy, but simply save yourself (or what’s left of you), you can consider yourself lucky – you’re free. The issue with freedom, however, is that when you’ve lived without it for a long time you don’t know what to do with it once you obtain it. Or maybe that’s the drama with everything in life – we never get it when we need it. Afterwards it’s just useless..
If somewhere along the way you’ve suffered pain, it becomes part of you till the end. It’s just like that feeling you can’t quite chase away when the silence of the night is only broken by the even breathing of the body next to you; that same feeling when you have every right to be happy and content, but instead you’re lost in doubt and ache. It’s no use explaining, no one will understand anyway – people hate things they don’t understand and they transfer the hatred onto the person that’s brought uncertainty into their lives. We all need antagonists.
Then you remember how:
you thought the world was full of possibilities and life was ahead of you;
you believed ‘staying true to yourself’ meant something;
you thought your conviction and perseverance will suffice;
you failed to notice you’re only human like everyone else. And you carry pain. Lots of it.
No none wants your truths. No one is interested in them. Just as you are blind to the truths of others. You may think you’re the King of the Mountain, but you’re just a fool on a hill. It takes so long to figure that out though. And it’s always after you’ve grown old. Unless you were born old as it happens with some of us. Sad childhood followed by sad adolescence,followed by sad adulthood, followed by sad old age, filled with sad memories. All because no one teaches us how to be lonely from the beginning. If only our parents sent us to bed, school, dinner and breakfast alone.. rather than do what every loving parent would – teach us how to be cared for, loved, nurtured only to render us completely incapable to handle solitude. And it comes about later on to never truly leave..and it’s not just a hundred years; it’s much longer…
Love creates dependency. Every emotionally normal human being feels its absence painfully once they’ve got used to it and it goes away. And love always goes away. Since it’s unnatural to fall in love twice with the same person [I don’t care what those washed-down romantic flicks are trying to convince you], you start looking for someone else to recreate the feeling with. It’s only logical and fair. Ironically, that’s exactly what drives people away.
The sad part is that at some point you’ll realise your life is full of prints by people long gone, never to return. But you’ll meticulously continue doing all those little things you picked up when you were still together… Why do they come natural to you now, you wonder? Because it doesn’t matter any more..