"Love", such a futile feeling. What is it even? All my life, all I ever did was love, but what did it got me into? The pain and sadness outweighs the joy and happiness. People would say "you should be counting your blessings" but is it even a blessing when all it got me is heartaches? Tell me is love even worth all these painful nights crying myself to sleep? Tell me, am I wrong for being anything but loving to the people that did me wrong? Tell me, what was my sin, that I have to carry this heavy weight on my shoulders just for love? Tell me now, how should love so that I could be treated nicer?
I know now that, no one was wrong, not the people that I loved nor it was me. Loving itself means that to accept and embrace. To willingly love. Because I thought what we gave is what we will get, but Life is not that simple. There are a million factors that I can list of why I won't get the love, I gave. But soon those who did loved a bit too much. Will too understand what I am talking about.
That enormous amount of sadness and heavy. That constant denial of why couldn't they just be nicer. The faking to accept how love works. The acceptance, the feeling of not wanting or needing to know their reasons. And in the end, I and you too shall be in peace. I and you too shall accept. I and you too, shall live. I and you too, shall love.
