Truthful Destination - Poetry

#39

A sudden reoccurring thought has pierced my cranium recently.

What if love isn't real?

Love is supposedly a complex and unexpected emotion,

Instead it could be a non-existent feeling made up by our brains to help us feel better,

Eventually clouding our judgement and assisting rash decisions,

Somehow I believe it may be an excuse for the lust and need for human contact we experience day-to-day.

Or
Maybe
It's
Just
A
Distraction.

A lie.

A childhood dream to make adulthood feel worthwhile.

Or maybe, just maybe, I haven't felt it yet.

One day, I will know for sure,
But how do I know when that day is?